#I put too much vodka in my mixed drink

[seokgyuu]

There is nothing worse than wanting what isn't yours. Sunghoon is your roommates boyfriend. He is also the one thing occupying your mind ever since you first laid eyes on him. And never would you have guessed that the feeling is mutual.

Pairing: Sunghoon x Fem!Reader (minor Jake x Fem!Reader)

Contents: Cheating!! I don't condone cheating in real life, but decided to have this be the main theme of this story, work of fiction!! be warned!, jake plays a big part, calls reader pretty girl, roommate is named yeri but pls don't picture rv yeri thats my baby ok? SMUT! MDNI

Smut Warnings: making out, dirty talk, usage of the words "sweetheart, "baby", "princess", "good girl", fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it friends), creampie

wc: 3.7k

a/n: i know i said my first ever enha fic would be the heejayhoon fic but... here we are now. sunghoon has been on my mind too much and he needed to be let out, ok!! pls don't cheat on your partner ok, sunghoon is not doing things correctly here but oh well, what can we do. thanks for reading <3

It’s not fair, you think. How she gets to sit on his lap, how she gets to run her fingers through his hair. How right now his hands are on her hips and how he holds her so close to his body, his eyes following her every word. You wish you could tell him. How she has been seeing this other guy behind his back. Nothing physical, you think, but still. You wish you could go up and tell him she’s not being entirely faithful. But you can’t. It’s not fair. 

She says something and he laughs and you finally turn away to grab the drink Jungwon has poured you ages ago. He is too busy talking to a girl you don’t know to notice you haven’t even taken the cup. You bring it to your lips, letting all of its contents run down your throat in one go. Maybe getting drunk is the only way you’ll survive this stupid ass party you didn’t even want to host in the first place. 

“Slow down, pretty girl,” you suddenly hear a voice next to you and you almost choke. It’s Jake Sim, his best friend. 

“What?” You put the cup back down and look at him with one brow raised. Jake chuckles, pushing a hand through his soft looking black hair.

“There is enough alcohol for everyone, no need to drown it all in one go.”

“Maybe I want to.” You challenge him with your eyes and he takes the hint, smirking as he grabs the bottle of vodka that's standing on the counter. 

“I got you, pretty girl.”

Talking to Jake is fun. He is fun. He is also handsy. After five minutes of talking, he has his hand on your thigh, looking at you attentively as you tell him some story about you in middle school. You’re feeling hot all over, but it’s not because of Jake or his hand or the way he looks at you. It’s because of how he is looking over.

Park Sunghoon. Still with your horrible roommate on his lap, with his hands still on her waist, with her mouth so close to his ear you’re sure she’s saying the dirtiest things to him right now. But he is looking at you. 

“How do you know Yeri?” Jake asks then, bringing you back. 

“She’s my roommate,” you explain and take a sip from the drink Jake mixed for you earlier. His eyebrows shoot up.

“Oh! You are her roommate!” He grins, “I knew you looked familiar.”

“I did?” You wouldn’t have bet on Jake knowing who you are as much as you wouldn’t have bet on Sunghoon visibly being bothered by you talking to his best friend. 

“Yeah. Sunghoon mentioned you before. Showed me your insta.” You can’t hide the surprise on your face.

“He did?” Jake chuckles again, leaning forward, his mouth almost as close to your ear as Yeri’s to Sunghoon’s. 

“He mentioned you’re not that talkative. He also mentioned you like to look at him. And you know what I think? He enjoys it when you do.” 

You hate your treacherous heart for beginning to beat quicker. Why would Jake say that? Wasn’t he hitting on you? Mentioning what Sunghoon liked or didn’t like - wasn’t this… counterproductive? 

“Why- why would you tell me this?” You finally ask back, looking at Jake with wide eyes. 

“Because,” he begins to explain, his hand wandering further up your thigh, making you gasp, “because I know that he likes looking at you, too. And I never liked Yeri. You seem much nicer than her.”

His breath is still hitting your neck. His touch is soft and while it should probably feel more sensual, it doesn’t. You realize his plan, realize that he is doing this because he knows Sunghoon is watching and you feel your cheeks heat up. 

“If you let me kiss you now, he will for sure come find you later.”

In retrospect - maybe it was a bit naive of you to just let him kiss you. Or well, for you to kiss him as a response. He could have played with you, could have used the knowledge that you wanted Sunghoon to his benefit. Something about him, though, made you feel like you could trust him.

Jake is a good kisser. He knows where to put his hands and how to suck on your tongue in a way that doesn't feel like too much. He knows how to turn his head and how to make you crave more, knows exactly how to make it look believable - so believable, Sunghoon can’t concentrate on Yeri on his lap anymore, on how she kisses his neck and whispers things into his ear he’d normally eat up, things he would normally be excited to hear. 

It’s not fair, he thinks. He’s not being fair. This has been going on for way too long. At this point he should just break up with Yeri as he had planned months ago. But he’s just a weak man and Yeri knows him too well. She’s not a good girlfriend and he’s not a good boyfriend, but never would he ever cheat on her. Or so he would like to think. Because right now? Looking at you on the other side of the room, your hands buried in Jake’s hair and his hand on your thigh, so far up it’s almost underneath your god forsaken skirt - he wants nothing more than to drag you into your bedroom and show you he’s better than Jake. 

The thought scares him enough to stop Yeri in her motion and excuse himself to go to the bathroom. 

“Wanna meet me in my room in five?” Yeri giggles in his ear when she’s off his lap and Sunghoon tightens his jaw. 

“I think you should entertain your guests a little more before you leave to your bedroom.”

Yeri pouts up at him when he gets up.

“But Hoonie…,” he knows her antics, he knows them well enough, probably better than anyone. What normally would have worked right away, doesn’t this time. He shakes his head and just walks off, making a pit-stop in the kitchen to get some more alcohol in his system to survive the night. 

-

Sunghoon knew it was bad, he was bad, when he walked into you in nothing but a short towel wrapped around your body two months ago. It had been totally out of his control - the way his body reacted to see you in your almost naked form, water dripping from your hair onto your shoulder, over your collarbone and down your chest. You suddenly became so much more than before. He had found you cute before. Cute and funny and nice. Never had he seen you as anything but his girlfriend’s roommate. You and Yeri weren’t even really friends, more like in need of each other. Yeri’s old roommate had moved in with her girlfriend and so the room became vacant. You were the first one to apply and stayed. This had been six months ago.

And now? Now Sunghoon feels more drawn to you than he had ever felt to Yeri and it drives him crazy. That is why he is drowning two shots of tequila in the kitchen with Jay and Jungwon and that is why he practically hides behind the door frame to watch you and Jake make out. He knows it’s not fair to be jealous. He also knows he probably shouldn’t watch the way Jake is kissing you, the way you are kissing Jake, because all it does is make his body burn. 

He finds himself wondering what you taste like. If you like the way Jake tastes. He’s pathetic. Pathetic and a horrible boyfriend. Sighing, he finally moves to the bathroom, glad to see there is only a small line he has to wait in. Crossing his arms, he leans against the wall, trying to forget the visual of you and Jake but failing miserably. Maybe he should have told Yeri to meet him in her bedroom after all. He could have taken his pathetic jealousy out on her. Just fuck her until he forgot. Imagine it was you instead. 

“Jesus, look at those two,” a voice rips Sunghoon out of his thoughts and he turns his head - immediately regretting his decision. 

It’s Jake and you and he has you pushed against the wall right next to the kitchen, kissing you hard and you kiss him back, hands on his nape and Sunghoon feels like the universe is out to get him tonight. Why the fuck would you follow him outside? Why couldn’t you have stayed in the living room, why-

He stands up straight again. 

You followed him outside. You are making sure he sees you. 

Sunghoon doesn’t have a coherent thought left in his brain. His legs carry him to you and Jake, squeezing through people he doesn’t know and then he is right there, his hand landing on Jake’s shoulder, squeezing hard.

“Heeseung is looking for you.” He says with a blank face and Jake parts from you, needing a few seconds to realize what’s going on. The moment he recognizes Sunghoon, he has to try really hard to suppress a smug smile.

“And that can’t wait? Kinda busy here, mate,” Jake raises his brows. Sunghoon’s jaw tightens once more.

“No. Said it was urgent. Better look for him.”

The apartment isn’t that big. There is a kitchen that’s separate from the living room that does house a good number of people. Jake has just seen Heeseung there. Talking to some red-head and most definitely not looking for him. Grinning after all, Jake nods and turns his head to wink at you quickly before finally taking off. 

“So,” Sunghoon starts, eyes traveling from the back of Jake’s head to you, “Jake, huh?” 

There is no chance in hell you can respond to him. In all honesty, you hadn’t really believed Jake’s plan would work out. Sunghoon getting jealous and stopping you from making out? When Yeri is right there? It seemed absurd. Apparently, though, it wasn’t. 

The surprise on your face is clear as day and Sunghoon scoffs, shaking his head.

“Is this how you want to get my attention, sweetheart? By making out with my best friend?”

Sweetheart. 

“I- I didn’t-,” it’s no use. Both of you know exactly why you had kissed Jake, why you had followed him into the hallway. 

“You didn’t, hm? Didn’t mean to kiss Jake? Didn’t kiss him just to make me jealous? Or what?” 

He’s so close to you now. Too close, if you think about it. What if someone sees you? Sees your roommate's boyfriend this close to you at her own party? 

“Sunghoon, I really don’t-,” you try again, but this time Sunghoon’s hands grab your waist as he pushes himself closer to you, your breath hatching in your throat.

“Don’t lie to me, princess. I can see it in your eyes. Fuck, I can see it in your eyes everytime I’m around. You want me, just admit it.”

Your skin is burning where he is touching you. His eyes are staring into yours and you wish with all of your being he wasn’t who he was. 

“I can’t. I- I don’t want you, Sunghoon, you’re not mine to want.”

Your words reach his ears but they don’t make sense even though they should. Looking around, Sunghoon grabs your wrist and drags you to your bedroom, holding out his hand.

“Keys, I know you locked it.”

You stare up at him, lips trembling, knowing better than to give in. 

“Sunghoon-,”

“Give me the keys, Y/N.”

The way he says your name has your knees growing weak. Swallowing, you let your hand slip into the pocket of your sweater, handing the waiting man what he had asked for. 

Without a word Sunghoon unlocks and opens the door, pulling you inside behind him, hoping to god no one paid you any mind. Once the door behind you shuts, you feel your back hit it, feel Sunghoon’s breath on your face, his hands back on your hips, the look in his eyes wild and angry and so full of want it almost causes you to whimper. 

“Do you want me to be yours to want?” He asks with a raspy voice and his fingers dig into your flesh. 

“Does it matter?” You reply quietly. 

“If it didn’t I wouldn’t ask you, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me that.” You immediately say, your thighs pressing together traitorously. Sunghoon catches your movement and he lets out a breath.

“Why? You like it?” 

He is so close to you. So fucking close. You could count every single mole and freckle on his face if only you had the strength to look at him for longer than two seconds.

“Sunghoon, please. Y-You’re Yeri’s boyfriend.”

“That doesn’t stop you from staring at me whenever I’m here, does it?” It’s wrong. He knows it and so do you, but it just feels too good. His hand moves from your waist down, sliding in between your thighs to part them. You gasp, eyes widening when you feel his fingers trailing up your thigh.

“I- I am not- I would never, Sunghoon!” 

It’s a light touch, but it’s right there on that one sensitive spot on your inner thigh. Sunghoon bathes in the way you look, the way your breath hitches when he touches you.

“Yeah? What was that, baby?”

“‘Am not staring at you!” You try to shoot daggers at him through your eyes, but all that reaches him are silent pleas to touch you more. 

“Is that right?” Sunghoon leans forward, his free hand now cupping your cheek, thumb softly caressing your face.

“Not staring at me, hm? Not wishing it was you on my lap instead of Yeri, no?”

“No! Of course not, I-,” you gasp again when he moves his hand further up.

“Stop lying to me, baby. Please, I need you to be honest, need you to tell me how much you want me.”

His voice is deep and his begging almost brings you to your knees. While the rational part of you tells you to push him away, the irrational part tells you to stay right where you are.

“I- what about Yeri, Sunghoon?” Your hands find place on his chest and he bites down on his lip, softly shaking his head.

“I’ll break up with her. I promise, princess. I just need you to tell me exactly what’s on your mind, please?”

I’ll break up with her, the words echo in your head over and over. You should think about this more, you know you should. And yet… 

“You- You are, Hoon, you are always on my mind.”

“Fuck, princess, tell me more. What am I doing in your mind?” His nose touches yours and the hand that was on your cheek moves down to your neck, a shiver running down your spine.

“Doing everything you do to her… to me.”

“Keep going.” His instructions are clear, but with the way his hand has now reached your throbbing core, with how his fingers glide over your soaked panties, feeling just how fucking wet you are for him, you don’t even know how to say your own name. 

“You kiss me, not her. You… touch me, not her.” The words stumble out of your mouth and Sunghoon breathes them in, his cock hard against his jeans as he lets his fingers push your panties to the side, feeling your warm and soft folds right then against his skin. He groans, head falling onto your shoulder.

“Shit, you’re so wet, baby, fuck.”

You whimper when he finds your clit with his thumb and you would have landed on the floor, if his arm hadn’t wrapped around you just then.

“Sunghoon…,” you breathe out, but he just shakes his head, kissing the side of your neck.

“Am I touching you like this in your mind, baby? Am I making you this wet?”

As if to accompany his words, he pushes one finger into you and you cry out, hands fisting the material of his shirt. 

“G-god, yes, just- just like this, Hoon.”

He’s dizzy, you are making him dizzy. Your smell and the way you feel around his finger, your voice dripping in pure lust, it’s about to drive him fucking insane.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles before finally kissing you, his lips devouring you like starved man, a moan escaping and landing in your mouth. Every bit of composure that might have been there a second ago is now gone. Your arms wrap around his neck as he continues pushing his finger in and out of you, your small whimpers getting caught by his busy lips. 

Sunghoon thinks you’re like a drug. Now that he’s got a taste, he can’t stop, he can’t get enough. He licks into your mouth to taste more of you, pushes another finger into your sopping pussy to prep you for his cock that is aching behind his pants. There isn’t much time, he knows someone will notice if he’s gone too long. 

“Been dreaming of this, Hoon, need you so, so bad.”

Your whispered words are like a prayer to Sunghoon. He moans against your lips and wraps both of his arms around you now, your cunt feeling so empty without him all of a sudden. You cry out when he puts you down on your bed and kisses you again, his hands busy getting your panties off your body, leaving your pussy bare for him to dive back into with his fingers. 

He kisses you again, his tongue circling around yours, his lips hot and red and perfect against your own. Nimble fingers slip underneath his shirt, caressing his soft skin as your hips move against him, his fingers even deeper inside of you at this angle. You whine into his mouth and Sunghoon bites down on your bottom lip.

“Gotta have you, baby, gotta fuck you, yeah?”

“Yes, please.” 

He rids himself of his jeans and boxers, pushing them down enough for his cock to spring free, his eyes taking in your body, your face, the way you look wanting him. How many nights had he wished it was you underneath him? Cursing under his breath, he pushes you further up the bed, your head landing on the pillow behind you, gaze wide as you watch him lean forward, his soft brown hair falling into his face. He doesn’t waste any time, pumping his cock a few times before lining himself up with you, easily slipping into your wet heat. 

“Kiss me.” You whisper and Sunghoon’s eyes fly open, sinking into your further as he leans forward, his lips catching yours in a sensual kiss. Your legs almost automatically wrap around his waist, helping him to completely sink into you. Moans are exchanged between the two of you and your fingers grab Sunghoon’s hair, pulling his head back so you can kiss his neck. He hisses, hips beginning to thrust into you, your tongue lapping at his skin. 

“Fuck, you’re so perfect around me, sweetheart. Never had a pussy better than this.”

He grabs your hand and pins it over your head, eyes wild as he stares down at you, his hips beginning to move mercilessly, cock hitting you right where you need him to. It takes everything in you not to scream for him, your eyes rolling back and your back arching, wanting more of him, wanting all of him. 

“Hoon, am already close,” you admit with your face hot and Sunghoon moans once again, letting his head fall down, back between your shoulder and neck, kissing your skin.

“Yes, baby, want you to cum on my cock.”

It’s true. He doesn’t think he has ever wanted something as much as this. His words are like a spell, your pussy clenching over and over again as your orgasm erupts you, making you cry out in pleasure, your hands flying to the his back, hips moving rapidly against him, basically fucking yourself on his cock through your orgasm and Sunghoon feels like he is about to pass out. 

“Good girl, such a good girl for me, fuck.”

He kisses you again, lust and want mixed with desperation as he continues to chase his high, twitching inside of you, your walls tight and warm around his hard cock. If he could, he would fuck you for another six hours, but he knows tonight is not the night for that. Fuck, he’s gonna need to get you a new apartment, he needs to get you as far away from Yeri as he possibly can. 

“Want you to cum in me, Sunghoon, please, make me yours, fill me up, please.”

Black and white dots appear in front of his eyes when you whisper these words in his ear and he can’t do anything but have your wish be his command. He curses your name once, twice - then he cums, thick stripes of white filling your awaiting pussy, the feeling of being filled by him getting you over the edge a second time. You can’t help the loud moan this time, can’t help clawing your fingers into his skin underneath his shirt. He rides out his orgasm and your legs fall off his waist, overstimulation hitting you and making you whine, Hoon kissing your neck and your cheek and finally your lips as he pulls out, quick to part from you again to look at how pretty your pussy looks filled with his release. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, I could look at this forever,” he mumbles, sinking down to push two fingers inside you, stuffing his cum back in. You gasp in surprise.

“Park Sunghoon!” 

He laughs, looking up at you with his bangs hanging in his face.

“Need to make sure it stays where it belongs, princess.”

Sunghoon breaks up with Yeri the next day. He takes you apartment hunting an hour later. Safe to say Jake’s plan worked out. And he won’t ever let you hear the end of it. 

[sheisjoeschateau]

"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART I

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

WHEN THE UNEXPECTED NIECE OF MURRAY BAUMAN GETS THROWN IN THE MIX, THE GANG HAS NO IDEA JUST WHAT THEY'RE IN FOR. SCRATCH THAT - STEVE DOESN'T KNOW. YOU GET ALONG WITH EVERYONE WELL. YOU BANTER WITH THE ADULTS, WHO APPRECIATE YOUR HELP. THE KIDS LOVE AND WORSHIP YOU. YOU'RE HELPFUL ALL AROUND. BUT AS FAR AS STEVE IS CONCERNED, YOU'RE JUST NUISANCE. AFTER ALL, YOU'RE THE REASON HE LOST THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE AND MISSED OUT ON A LIFE THAT "COULD'VE BEEN." IF YOU HAD JUST KEPT YOUR SORRY ASS OUT OF THE PICTURE... IF YOU HAD NEVER GONE WITH NANCY AND JONATHAN AFTER THEY LEFT YOUR WHACK-JOB UNCLE, MURRAY BAUMAN'S, BUNKER? HE WOULD BE HAPPY. SO F*CKING HAPPY. BUT HERE YOU WERE. YOU WERE BASICALLY THE COOLER (...AND SURE, MUCH MORE ATTRACTIVE) FEMALE VERSION OF MURRAY BAUMAN. YOU WERE SARCASTIC, QUICK-WITTED, TOO SMART FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, AND APPARENTLY BUILT FOR THE WAR. SURE, YOU WEREN'T AS BRASH AS YOUR UNCLE. BUT IN STEVE'S EYES, YOU WERE SOMEHOW FAR MORE OBNOXIOUS. HE DOWNRIGHT HATED YOU. HE WILL FOREVER HATE YOU... BUT WILL HE?

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE COPIED AND/OR REPOSTED ON HERE OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR PUT INTO ANY AI PROGRAMS. THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG, MDNI.

An original fanfiction series, written by Misha St. James.

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

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I did not proof-read this after Tumblr gave me hell trying to share. So pls excuse possible typos. hehe

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Let's just get to the point, shall we?

Once upon a time, a young boy named Will Byers went missing. Later, he was found in an alternate dimension by the world's #1 mom and a cynical cop turned hero. A girl with a shaved head had telekinetic superpowers, befriend's Will's four loyal friends along the way and helping them track down their missing party member. Then, whatever the hell was on the other side - whatever was in this...upside down...took back Eleven. She'd been missing ever since that dreadful winter.

Fast forward to now: you're sitting in your uncle's bunker, looking at his wild display of efforts.  Papers, files, whiteboards covered in multiple words, arrows, sketches - all in different colored markers. Murray Bauman was on a mission, and he would be damned if that grumpy, cynical smart-ass known as Jim Hopper honestly thought that he could dismantle his efforts.  Nice try, chum. Game on. Thankfully, you'd gone to school with Barbara Holland. That's whose parents had assigned the task of searching for her to your uncle. Murray was asking you tons of questions, and you were glad to help. It meant spending time with the only family member you cared for, despite his wackiness. You guys got each other. Bantered well. Got shit done. Honestly, it was also a great way of drinking safely and not with a bunch of rowdy teenagers at some stupid party. You got along just fine with everyone at school. But damn, they could all be annoying.  ...especially Steve fucking Harrington, who was now the topic of conversation. You know, given that his house is where Barbara was last seen. "It just isn't making sense," your uncle huffed, raking his hands through his oily dark hair.  You sipped on the glass of vodka that your uncle had poured you, hissing at the strong taste. Leaning across the coffee table, seated on his couch, you tried to connect the dots with him. "I'm telling you, someone in that group of teens knows what's up. Or at least has an idea." Your uncle swigged at his vodka, defeated but ruthlessly trying to piece together his clusterfuck of scattered evidence across his wall. "Well then, guess we better grill 'em."

And that's how you come into the picture. When Nancy and Jonathan came to seek out Murray. And when they arrive, they're surprised to see you. They recognize you from school. Jonathan took several classes with you. In fact, the two of you got along well at Hawkins High. No, you weren't close. But you both were cool. Nancy, on the other hand, didn't know anything about you. Just that you took political science with Barbara, and got straight A's across the board. You could've been class valedictorian. But you were not looking for any sort of title that demanded pressure or attention. At least not in high school. Career wise? Sure. Not here, though. Not Hawkins. "Your timeline is wrong," Nancy is saying, making you and Bauman freeze.  Nancy is telling you that the girl with the buzzed hair is not Russian. She is, in fact, from Hawkins lab. And her name is...Eleven? So they do know something. And something turns out to be everything.

Jonathan sits you both down to relay everything to you both. And woof, does it give you guys a headache. Strangely, though... it makes a whole lot more sense than some mundane explanation of sorts. Obviously though, that puts you all in a tough spot where you'll all need to put your heads together. So the two classmates of yours stay, sharing in chilled Smirnoff and having to endure the hilarity that ensues between you and your uncle. You and Murray both banter well with the two of them. Jonathan finds you to be hilarious. Nancy finds you intimidating. Very intimidating. You’re quick witted, darkly humored and independent. But there is a reserved, mysterious sort of feminine energy to you, despite your more masculine strengths and bluntness. Over glasses of stiff vodka, you all come to the conclusion on how to go about exposing the truth about Barbara Holland's disappearance: water it down.

At the end of the night, you're all winding down -- you and your uncle having convinced the two lovebirds to stay. But when you're telling them they can take your uncle's guest room while you take the couch, Jonathan's asking if he can take the couch. You blink. Huh? ...surely Nancy is not still with --

"Okay, I'm confused," your uncle's saying. "What's going on here? Lovers quarrel?"

You cock an eyebrow, leaning back into the loveseat.

But Jonathan and Nancy are then talking over each other with weird, flustered excuses...saying they're just friends.

You and your uncle bust out laughing. And then you're shrinking back in your seat, knowing what's coming: one of your Uncle Murray's lovebird witchdoctor speeches that he barrels into anytime that two delusional people have convinced themselves that they aren't in love. Or at the very least, not into each other. 

Uncle Murray is breaking them down, one at a time. He's reading Jonathan like an angsty teen novel, seeing right through him and his brooding, mysterious energy.  Trust issues, thanks to daddy issues. Yikes, that makes you sip some more drink.

And then he's onto Nancy, saying that she's harder to read. But he manages anyway.  It's the Bauman way.

He's telling her that she's likely like everyone else, "afraid of what would happen if you accepted yourself for you who you really are." He looks at you. "Am I in the right ballpark?"

You nod, swallowing the last drop of vodka in your cup. "That...and afraid of that might happen if she didn't retreat back to the safety of someone familiar."

Nancy looks bewildered. But more than that, she looks caught. 

"Name?" your uncle is prodding, snapping his fingers.  "Name."

You and Jonathan both say it. "Steve."

Uncle Murray's face is priceless. He feigns adoration, putting on a baby voice as he repeats the name. "Dawh. Steve. We like Steve."

"Yes," Nancy laughs nervously.  Eek, you think.

"But we don't love Steve..." Your uncle's words floor Nancy.

And when Nancy's saying something about still being with Steve, insisting that she loves him, you roll your eyes. Even scoffing, getting her attention. Maybe if the vodka weren't in your system, you wouldn't be so bold. But Jonathan's mopey look just gives you more confidence.

"Boom, ladies and gents," you say with a grin. "Second lie of the evening." "The hell was the first one?" Jonathan asks, blinking. "You guys being just friends." You and your uncle say something along the same lines, simultaneously. You both laugh together, clinking glasses. The two not lovebirds just squirm awkwardly in their seats. Finally, you sigh. "Look. You guys don't wanna give up the ghost? Be my guest. I'll happily keep my bed." You stand up, ready to turn in. But not until casting them one last work, pointing a finger. "But if I were you two? I'd cut the bullshit and just share the damn bed." Murray snorts, rising to stand as well. He stretches. "Welllllp. I'm turning in for the night." You begin mounting the stairs, hollering: "Better act fast, kiddos. At least before this poison in my system knocks me out cold. Don't worry, Nancy, I don't snore. So if you do choose me, you're safe." "But that's so lame," Murray adds to that wryly, heading off to his room. You both tell each other goodnight, leaving the two angsty teens to decide their fate. All you know is that Nancy ends up walking out and not coming back, at one point in the night.  Yeah, thought so. Breakfast the next morning is even more hilarious. You and your uncle ask every single question that drips with innuendo that you ever possibly could. And it's worth every fucking minute.

Murray's gonna need to keep that couch cleaned. To your surprise, Murray sends you off with Nancy and Jonathan, but given that you want to go and see it all for yourself you don't mind. You’re basically his little spy.  Most uncles send off their nieces and nephews with some good advice, maybe a packed lunchbox or snacks, and a warm hug. 

Yours, however, sends you off with a full bottle of vodka, a thick wad of cash and some fun sarcastic banter. But he headlocks you in for a hug, and you cackle. He really is a nutcase, and man you can't help but love him. He is so not the parental type. Yet somehow, he's practically raised you. And in your opinion, you're pretty well-prepared for the world. More than most, in Murray's opinion. So off you go with Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Buyers, and they both honestly enjoy your company. It helps them get past their umm...well...awkward new reality. That new reality that comes post-sex, after a long ass time of playing the tip-toe game. The sexual tension between them is hysterical to you. But you keep your thoughts to yourself for now. The vodka did most of the talking for you last night.

When you both arrive at wherever the hell your destination is, it's dark outside. And if you're being honest, it's pretty creepy. You're somewhere near the woods, and as you all walk closer you're beginning to see lights approaching you...along with a handful of shadowed figures. 

Fuck, you literally just got here.

But then, after a tense several moments... Nancy and Jonathan call out to them. You jump, startled at the fact that they do it so confidently. But the name that they call out suddenly makes it all make sense. "STEVE?" "NANCY...?" And that's how you became a crucial part of the most royal pain in the ass, King Steve's, life.

[fuqnia]

No Hard Feelings

Kenny McCormick x fem!reader insert

(❁´◡`❁) | [A/N] hi guys! i recently just reached over 250 hearts on tumblr which is INSANE!! thank you so much for all the support. also, this oneshot is based off my wip college au. this is my first written smut ever and was shelved, so </3 moots im so sorry for this lmao

(❁´◡`❁) | Warning(s) : DUB-CON, p in v, vaginal sex, blow jobs, drinking, vaginal fingering, no condoms used, emotional manipulation, failed pull out method, kenny is an asshole, all characters are aged up!

(❁´◡`❁) | Synopsis : You, a shy college student with a long-time crush on Kenny McCormick, find yourself swept into a heated encounter with him at a party. Despite the passion, Kenny’s manipulative nature reveals itself when he brushes off his broken promise with a dismissive “no hard feelings.” Left alone in the aftermath, you’re forced to confront your regret and the harsh truth of being just another conquest.

The bass thumped relentlessly, shaking the already-questionable structural integrity of the frat house. Every surface seemed alive with motion—beer cans rattling on shelves, walls trembling under the weight of the music, and the floor vibrating beneath your heels. The air was thick with a heady mix of cheap cologne, spilled alcohol, and the sweat of too many bodies crammed into one place. Somewhere, someone shouted a toast; somewhere else, glass shattered, followed by a chorus of drunken laughter.

You hovered near the staircase, trying to keep yourself anchored amid the chaos. The dress you were wearing—tight, black, and far more revealing than anything you’d normally wear—clung to your curves in a way that felt suffocating under the low, flickering lights. It had taken you almost an hour to settle on it, pulling item after item from your closet until Red had finally yelled through the phone, “Just wear something that screams ‘hot, single, and overthinking this!’”

You’d spent another hour painstakingly doing your makeup, following tutorials with more concentration than you’d ever put into a class assignment. The winged eyeliner had been redone twice, your lipstick carefully lined and blotted until it was perfect. You’d even gone for a shimmery highlight, something to make your cheekbones pop like the girls Kenny always seemed to surround himself with.

Looking in the mirror before you left, you’d almost convinced yourself you looked good. Sexy, even. But here, under the glaring LED lights and in a room packed with people who all seemed effortlessly confident, you felt like an impostor wearing someone else’s skin.

You tugged at the hem of your dress, self-conscious about how much leg you were showing. Every brush of fabric against your skin reminded you of how foreign it all felt. The laughter and shouting around you seemed to close in like a physical weight. Your drink—a watery, overly-sweet concoction someone had assured you was vodka punch—sat untouched in your hand, its condensation slick against your fingers.

“Dude, you’re staring at it like it owes you money,” came Red’s voice from your right. She was perched against the banister, her phone in one hand, a drink in the other, eyeing you like you were some kind of science experiment.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, too quickly, as heat rose to your cheeks.

Red snorted, looking utterly unconvinced. “Sure you are. That’s why you’re holding your cup like it’s a flotation device and hugging this wall like it’s about to throw you a life preserver.”

Your gaze darted around the room. Everywhere you looked, people seemed so at ease. Wendy was perched on the edge of a couch, sipping her drink with a bored expression as Bebe danced in front of her, all hair flips and practiced, sultry smiles. Cartman was sprawled on another couch, gesturing wildly as he shouted something obnoxious that no one seemed to be paying attention to. Stan and Kyle were by the keg, deep in some debate, while Tolkien laughed at their expense. The whole place was alive, chaotic and carefree in a way that only made you feel more out of place.

And then, there was Kenny.

He was sprawled on a couch on the other side of the room, one arm draped casually over the backrest, his blonde hair tousled like he’d just rolled out of bed—but in a way that screamed effortless cool rather than messy. His faded leather jacket clung perfectly to his broad shoulders, his ripped jeans giving him that rough-around-the-edges charm that drove girls wild.

The smirk on his lips was the kind of thing you could write a sonnet about. It was cocky but not forced, confident without being cruel. Around him, two girls laughed at something he’d said—a brunette with an artfully messy ponytail and a crop top that showed off her toned stomach, and a blonde in a skirt so short it was practically a suggestion. They leaned in close, giggling and flipping their hair, the kinds of girls who didn’t have to try to look sexy.

You tore your gaze away, heart pounding in your chest.

“You know,” Red said casually, following your line of sight, “you’re allowed to talk to him. He’s not some kind of untouchable Greek god. Though, knowing Kenny, he’d probably love it if you treated him like one.”

“Red, no,” you said quickly, your voice barely audible over the music.

“Red, yes,” she shot back. “You spent, what, two hours putting that look together? It’s working, babe. Now go get your man.”

You looked down at yourself. The makeup, the dress, the heels—it was all supposed to make you feel confident, like you could walk into this party and turn heads the way the other girls did. But all it did was make you feel more exposed, like you were playing dress-up in clothes that didn’t belong to you.

Across the room, Kenny laughed, throwing his head back as Craig said something sarcastic. His smile was wide and dazzling, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. He was magnetic, utterly at ease, the kind of person who didn’t have to try to command attention. People just gravitated toward him, drawn in by his charm and that devil-may-care attitude that made him seem larger than life.

You sighed, gripping the plastic cup a little too hard as the longing in your chest twisted deeper. Every laugh that tumbled from Kenny’s lips sent a spark through your nerves, like your body couldn’t decide if it wanted to combust or crawl under the nearest piece of furniture. You glanced at him one last time, sprawled on that damn couch, looking like he owned the entire world without even trying. But the thought of crossing that room, of actually talking to him, made your stomach churn. You’d rather die.

Red groaned beside you, her voice loud enough to cut through the music. “Oh my fucking God, [Y/N]. Just go talk to him. He’s not gonna, like, eat you alive. Unless you’re into that.”

You laughed, but it came out thin and nervous. “Nope. No way. Not happening.”

“Why not?” she challenged, her tone laced with frustration. “What are you so afraid of?”

You looked down at the punch in your hand, swirling the liquid around to avoid meeting her gaze. “I just… I’m not doing it, okay? I need a drink that doesn’t taste like motor oil. I’m going to the kitchen.”

“Jesus, you’re such a pussy,” she muttered, crossing her arms and leaning back against the staircase. “Fine. Go hide in the kitchen. But don’t come crying to me when some other girl pounces on him first.”

Her words followed you as you slipped into the crowd, the sticky floor clinging to the soles of your heels as you weaved your way toward the kitchen. The further you got from the main room, the cooler the air felt, but your mind was still buzzing. It wasn’t just the noise or the heat—it was him. It was always him.

Your thoughts drifted, unspooling like a badly edited movie reel as you tried to shake the tension from your shoulders.

Two years ago. Freshman year. Physics 101.

You hadn’t even wanted to take the class—it was just an annoying requirement for your sociology major, and you’d been hoping for an easy A. You remembered walking into the lecture hall on that first day, finding a spot in the middle of the room where you could blend in, and pulling out your notebook, bracing yourself for ninety minutes of boredom.

And then Kenny fucking McCormick walked in, and the air shifted.

He was late—of course he was—and he didn’t seem to give a single shit about the professor stopping mid-sentence to glare at him. He strolled down the aisle, hands shoved in the pockets of his ripped jeans, his combat boots thudding against the steps. His blonde hair was messy in that perfect I just rolled out of bed, but I’m still cooler than you way, and he was wearing a vintage band tee—Nirvana, you thought, or maybe Pearl Jam—that looked like it had been through a war. A worn flannel was tied around his waist, completing the grunge-rock vibe that made him look like he’d stepped out of the nineties and into the lecture hall.

He threw his battered backpack onto the seat next to Craig, who immediately leaned over to say something that made Kenny laugh—loud, careless, and a little too disruptive for the stiff energy of the classroom. The professor rolled his eyes and resumed the lecture, but you were already distracted, stealing glances at Kenny as he sprawled in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world. He pulled a notebook from his bag, and you noticed his nails were chipped, a faint streak of black polish lingering on some of them.

God, he was the definition of effortlessly cool .

You spent the next few weeks completely smitten. Every Tuesday and Thursday morning, you’d find yourself zoning out during the lecture, more interested in watching Kenny chew on the end of his pen or scribble something illegible in his notebook than paying attention to the professor. You found out later, by overhearing some random conversation between him and Craig, that he was a physics major. A physics major . Something about that detail made him even more fascinating. He wasn’t just cool—he was smart. And while you were slogging through Physics 101 trying to keep your GPA afloat, Kenny breezed through it like it was second nature.

The semester ended before you ever worked up the courage to say a single word to him. Not one. You’d spent months hovering in the background, trying to convince yourself that your crush was stupid, that he’d never notice someone like you anyway. But it didn’t matter. Every time you thought you were over it, you’d see him on campus—in the dining hall, at the library, once leaning casually against a vending machine while flirting with some girl—and all those feelings came rushing back.

Now, two years later, not much had changed. Sure, you’d gotten better at pretending you didn’t care, better at hiding the way your stomach flipped every time he walked into a room. But when you saw him, sprawled on that couch with his stupid boots and that same carefree smile, all the walls you’d built around your heart crumbled. He still had you wrapped around his fucking finger, and he didn’t even know it.

The kitchen door creaked as you pushed it open, the noise of the party dulling slightly as you stepped inside. The air was cooler here, less suffocating, but the chaos hadn’t completely disappeared. A group of guys stood near the counter, pouring shots and loudly daring each other to take them without chasers. Someone else was leaning against the fridge, scrolling on their phone, while another pair of people debated whether or not it was safe to drink the unmarked punch in the giant plastic tub by the sink.

You set your cup down on the counter, wiping the condensation from your fingers. For a brief moment, you considered turning around, sneaking out of the party entirely, and walking back to your dorm in the cold. But the ache in your chest refused to let up, and you knew—no matter how much you wanted to pretend otherwise—that this night wasn’t over yet.

The kitchen door swung open with a loud creak, and two girls strolled in, giggling and swaying slightly as they made their way toward the makeshift bar set up on the far counter. It was the blonde and the brunette you’d seen flirting with Kenny earlier. The blonde had her hair in perfectly tousled waves, her mini dress glittering under the dim kitchen light, while the brunette wore a plunging top that clung to her like a second skin. Both looked effortlessly put-together, the kind of girls who didn’t seem to care that half the party was already drunk and sticky with spilled beer.

“Ugh, these fucking frat drinks,” the blonde groaned, holding up a bottle of clear liquor and squinting at it. “I swear, if I get alcohol poisoning, I’m suing Sigma Chi.”

The brunette snorted, grabbing a soda to mix. “Please. You’d survive just to come back next week.” She leaned against the counter, tipping her head toward the blonde. “So, did he say anything else to you?”

The blonde popped the cap off her bottle with a soft clink , rolling her eyes dramatically. “No. Just the same shit he says to every girl. ‘Hey, I like your hair.’ ‘Oh, cool tattoo.’” She fluttered her lashes, mimicking Kenny’s voice in a syrupy tone before breaking into a laugh. “It’s like, come on, dude. If you’re gonna flirt, at least try to be original.”

Your stomach twisted at their words, but you couldn’t stop yourself from listening. You busied yourself with the bottles on the counter, pretending to look for a drink, your ears straining to catch every syllable.

“Well, duh,” the brunette said, taking a sip of her drink. “He’s obviously just fishing for someone to hook up with. I mean, it’s Kenny. He’s not exactly boyfriend material.”

The blonde let out a sharp laugh. “Right? Like, what was Tammy thinking, dating him for so long? I swear, it was only a matter of time before he fucked that up.”

Tammy. The name hit like a tiny knife, though you couldn’t explain why. You hadn’t even known Kenny had a girlfriend until recently, and by the time you’d found out, the relationship was already over. It wasn’t jealousy, exactly—it wasn’t like you’d ever had a claim on him. But hearing about her had only added to the growing list of reasons why getting involved with Kenny was probably a terrible idea.

The brunette leaned in conspiratorially, lowering her voice just enough that you had to strain to hear. “You know they broke up because she caught him flirting with some girl at the bar, right? Like, right in front of her. Tammy was pissed .”

The blonde scoffed, pouring herself another drink. “Of course she was. What did she expect? Kenny’s not exactly the settle-down type.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” the brunette said, swirling her drink idly. “Tammy told me he always acted like he was bored when they were together. Like, he didn’t even want to put the effort in.” She laughed, shaking her head. “He’s just... Kenny. He doesn’t stick around for long.”

The two girls drifted back into giggling about something else, their voices fading into background noise as they poured their drinks and made their way back toward the party. But their words clung to you, heavy and suffocating, as you stood frozen by the counter.

Kenny doesn’t stick around for long.

You knew it was true. Hell, everyone who knew Kenny knew it. He was charming and magnetic, the kind of guy who could draw people in without even trying—but he was also like a firework: brilliant for a moment, then gone. You’d seen it time and time again over the past two years, the way he flirted with girls at parties or hooked up with someone only to move on the next day like it hadn’t meant anything. It wasn’t cruel, exactly—he wasn’t malicious about it. Kenny just... didn’t stay.

Your hands hovered over the bottles on the counter for a moment before you grabbed one of the half-empty vodka bottles and poured a generous splash into an abandoned cup. You grabbed the nearest mixer—some off-brand soda—and topped it off before taking a tentative sip. It burned as it went down, but the warmth in your chest wasn’t entirely unwelcome. You took another sip, larger this time, letting the alcohol take the edge off the storm swirling in your mind.

Why couldn’t you let this crush go? Why did your heart twist every time you saw him, knowing full well that he’d never be the guy you wanted him to be? You’d told yourself, over and over, that it was stupid to hang on to this feeling, to keep wishing for something that wasn’t going to happen. But you still couldn’t stop picturing him smiling at you the way he smiled at everyone else, easy and warm, like it didn’t cost him anything.

Somewhere deep down, you knew the truth: even if Kenny did notice you, even if he liked you for a night, it wouldn’t last. It never did.

You took another long sip of your drink, letting the alcohol burn its way down and settle in your stomach. The faint buzz that followed wasn’t nearly enough to drown out the noise in your head. Your grip on the cup tightened as the blonde’s words from earlier echoed over and over.

Kenny’s single.

You weren’t sure why it mattered. It wasn’t like you were planning on doing anything about it. But still, the fact that it was true—that you knew it now, definitively—felt like a crack in the dam. A dangerous little opening that let all the thoughts you’d been trying to keep at bay flood in.

You spotted Red still leaning against the staircase, scrolling through her phone with her drink long gone. Her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, and you could practically hear her muttering insults to herself about whatever she was doomscrolling through. You forced yourself to push past the swell of nerves in your chest and made your way over to her, dodging a guy who stumbled past you with two beers clutched in his hands.

“Hey,” you said, voice tight as you stopped in front of her. She glanced up from her phone, arching an eyebrow.

“Hey,” she said slowly, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind. Did someone throw up in the kitchen, or is it worse than that?”

You rolled your eyes. “No. I overheard something. About Kenny.”

That got her attention. She locked her phone and tucked it into the waistband of her skirt, stepping forward with a dramatic smirk. “Oh, do tell.”

You hesitated, your fingers tightening around the cup in your hand. “I, uh... apparently, he’s single. He and Tammy broke up.”

Red stared at you for a moment, her face completely unreadable, before she snorted so loudly that people nearby glanced over. “Oh my fucking God, that’s what you’re worked up about?” She laughed again, shaking her head as she put a hand on her hip. “Babe, everyone already fucking knows that.”

You blinked, heat crawling up your neck. “You—what? How the fuck do you know?”

“Because I have ears, [Y/N],” Red said, giving you a look that was so condescending it bordered on cartoonish. “The whole goddamn campus knows. They broke up like a week ago after Tammy caught him flirting with some chick at a bar.” She shrugged, her smirk growing wider. “Classic Kenny.”

Your cheeks burned, and you took another sip of your drink to keep from saying something stupid. “I just thought you might, I don’t know, want to know or something.”

Red’s eyes gleamed, and she leaned in closer, her grin turning downright wicked. “Ohhhh, I see what’s happening here. You overheard it, and now you’re standing here wondering if this is your chance to finally grow some fucking balls and go talk to him.”

“What? No!” you snapped, but the words came out far too quickly.

“Uh-huh,” she said, dragging out the syllables as she eyed you like a shark circling its prey. “So you’re just gonna stand here all night, sipping your sad little drink, while someone else inevitably makes out with him first?”

You scowled, your fingers tightening around your cup. “I’m not fucking staring at him, and I told you, it’s not happening.”

Red tilted her head, her grin widening even more. “Wow. Pathetic. You’re really gonna let another opportunity slip through your fingers? That’s, like, tragic, babe.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, Red spun on her heel and cupped her hands around her mouth.

“HEY! Who wants to play spin the fucking bottle?” she shouted, her voice cutting through the blaring music like a knife.

Your heart dropped into your stomach. “Red, no .”

“Red, YES,” she shot back, her grin practically manic as she waved to the growing crowd.

It was like tossing a match into a pile of gasoline. People swarmed the area almost immediately, some cheering, others laughing loudly as they shoved furniture out of the way to make room.

Bebe was the first to join, her eyes lighting up as she plopped onto the floor. “Oh my God, fuck yes. This is gonna be amazing.”

Wendy groaned but followed close behind, crossing her arms as she sat down next to her. “You’re such a child,” she muttered, though the corner of her mouth twitched with a faint smile.

Craig and Tweek wandered over as well, the former sighing heavily as he sat down. “If I have to kiss Cartman again, I’m leaving,” he said flatly.

“That’s your own damn fault for spinning so fucking hard last time,” Tweek muttered, twitching as he sipped from his beer.

Within moments, a circle had formed on the living room floor, a chaotic mix of familiar faces and random partygoers. Someone produced an empty beer bottle, and Red dropped into the middle of the group with a flourish, patting the spot next to her as she turned to you.

“C’mon, [Y/N],” she said, her grin practically daring you. “Sit your shy little ass down. Don’t be a fucking buzzkill.”

You froze, your heart hammering in your chest. You were about to refuse when the sound of a low, familiar laugh sent a shiver racing down your spine.

“Spin the bottle, huh?”

The voice was casual, laced with amusement, but it cut through the noise like a blade. You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who it was.

Kenny strolled up to the circle, beer in hand, his leather jacket hanging open over a slightly wrinkled band tee. His ripped jeans clung to his legs in just the right way, and his boots were scuffed and untied, like he’d just walked out of a grunge concert. His blonde hair was a mess, falling into his eyes as he took a long sip of his beer and surveyed the scene with a crooked smirk.

“Fuck it,” he said, dropping onto the floor across from you. “I’m in.”

Your stomach twisted into knots as you stared at him, your face burning so hot you were surprised it didn’t light up the room. He leaned back slightly, stretching out his long legs, his boots brushing against the edge of the circle as he propped his beer on his knee. His blue eyes swept lazily across the group, and then—God help you—they landed on you.

He smirked, raising his beer slightly in a wordless, cocky little toast.

Red leaned over, her breath warm against your ear as she whispered, “You’re fucking welcome.”

You were going to kill her. If your heart didn’t give out first.

The bottle clinked against the floor as Red gave it a dramatic spin, her manic grin making your chest tighten with dread. The bottle blurred in a frenzy before slowing to a crawl, its neck ticking like a clock as it passed from person to person. You held your breath without meaning to, and when it finally landed on Craig, Red whooped loudly, throwing her arms in the air.

“Fucking jackpot!” she crowed, pointing a triumphant finger at him.

Craig raised a brow, unimpressed. “Lucky me,” he deadpanned, though the corner of his mouth twitched with a smirk.

“Pucker up, baby,” Red teased, crawling toward him on her hands and knees.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Tweek muttered, his hands twitching nervously at his sides. “Do I have to fucking watch this?”

Craig shrugged. “You’re the one who didn’t spin, dude. Suffer.”

Red leaned in, grabbed Craig’s chin like a mischievous demon, and planted the loudest, most obnoxious kiss you’d ever seen directly on his lips. The circle exploded into cheers and laughter as Red pulled away, wiping her mouth dramatically and muttering, “Ten out of ten, no notes,” as she plopped back into her spot.

As the bottle was passed to the next person, your heart pounded in your chest, drowning out the noise around you. You clutched your drink like a lifeline, the condensation soaking your hand as you tried not to completely lose your shit.

One by one, people spun the bottle, each spin dragging your nerves tighter. It felt like every pair was some wild, ridiculous combination of chaos.

Wendy spun and landed on Cartman, who immediately puffed out his chest. “Hell yeah, Wendy Testa—”

She slapped her hand over his mouth. “Don’t finish that sentence, asshole,” she growled, leaning in for the world’s quickest, most reluctant peck.

When Cartman spun, the bottle landed on Tolkien, and the crowd roared with laughter as Cartman groaned, “Ugh, fine. Let’s get it over with. You’re lucky I’m generous.”

Tolkien smirked. “You’re lucky I’m even agreeing to this.”

Craig spun the bottle so hard it went skittering out of the circle, narrowly missing Bebe’s head before it stopped—pointing at Tweek.

“Oh my fucking God, I knew this was gonna happen,” Tweek hissed, running his hand through his hair.

“Relax, babe,” Craig said, leaning over and kissing him without hesitation, like it was the easiest thing in the world. The crowd burst into cheers again, someone shouting, “Power couple!” as Craig leaned back with a satisfied smirk.

All the while, your stomach churned. You weren’t even sure if it was the alcohol or your anxiety—or maybe some hellish cocktail of both. The longer you sat there, the harder it became to breathe. Kenny sat directly across from you, still impossibly relaxed, his leather jacket hanging open as he took lazy sips of his beer. His gaze wandered idly across the group, but every now and then, it flickered to you—and each time it did, your heart skipped painfully.

You squeezed your cup tighter, willing yourself to focus on anything other than the bottle, the circle, or the boy who had haunted your thoughts for years. But your mind wasn’t having it. As your pulse raced, another memory clawed its way to the surface, dragging you back to a moment you hadn’t thought about in a long time.

It was sophomore year, sometime last spring. You’d been running late to your sociology class after oversleeping and decided to take a shortcut through a side street to shave off a few precious minutes. The alley had been quiet, the brick walls echoing the distant hum of campus life. You’d barely noticed the figures standing just past the dumpster—until you got closer.

It was Kenny.

And he wasn’t alone.

He was pressed up against the wall, his fingers gripping the fabric of some guy’s hoodie as their mouths crashed together with a kind of desperate intensity that made your heart stutter. Kenny’s hair was messy, his jacket pulled half-off his shoulders, and the guy he was kissing—a tall, broad-shouldered stranger with stubble and dark hair—had one hand tangled in Kenny’s blonde locks, the other sliding up under his shirt.

You’d frozen in your tracks, the scene playing out like something ripped from a movie. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was raw, passionate, and so full of hunger that it made your head spin. You couldn’t look away, even as guilt twisted in your stomach for watching something so private.

The alley had felt suffocating, the heat between them palpable even from a distance. And though you’d been rooted to the spot, your mind had screamed at you to leave, to pretend you hadn’t seen anything. After a moment that felt like an eternity, you turned and walked away as quietly as you could, your face burning and your heart hammering.

For weeks after, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. About him. About the fact that you’d never seen Kenny look so... alive. There had always been something magnetic about him, but seeing him like that—unguarded, all-consuming—had changed something. It had cemented the ache in your chest, the longing that you’d tried so hard to push away.

And now, sitting across from him in this stupid circle, you couldn’t stop the memory from clawing its way back to the surface. The way he’d clung to that man, kissed him like he was the only thing that mattered in the world—it was the same Kenny sitting across from you now, and yet it wasn’t. He looked so calm, so relaxed, but you knew what was underneath. You’d seen it.

The bottle clinked against the floor again, pulling you back to the present. Bebe spun this time, the bottle landing on Kyle, who looked like he wanted to sink into the ground as she leaned in with a gleeful grin.

You barely noticed, your thoughts still spiraling. You took another sip of your drink, the alcohol doing little to calm the storm in your chest. Kenny was still across from you, his lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched the chaos unfold. And then, almost imperceptibly, his eyes flicked to you again.

The bottle clinked softly as it spun on the floor, its momentum slowing with every second. The sound echoed in your head like a countdown, each rotation making your chest tighten. The noise of the party seemed muffled now, the chaotic laughter and music reduced to a dull hum under the pounding of your pulse. You watched the bottle, unable to look away, until it finally came to a stop.

It was pointing directly at you.

You froze.

The circle erupted into cheers, whoops, and exaggerated oohs that seemed far too loud, too much, as though the entire room had turned their attention to you. Red, of course, was the loudest, smacking your arm so hard that your drink nearly toppled out of your hand.

“Holy shit, [Y/N]!” she crowed, her grin so wide it might’ve split her face in half. “Look who’s about to get some action!”

Your breath caught, your eyes darting helplessly across the circle. Kenny was sitting directly across from you, legs stretched out lazily, one hand resting on the floor while the other held his beer. His leather jacket hung open over a vintage tee, the faint tear near the neckline showing just a hint of his collarbone. His ripped jeans looked like they might fall apart if he moved too quickly, but of course, on him, it only added to his rough-around-the-edges charm.

And he was smirking at you.

“Guess we’ve gotta give the people what they want,” Kenny said smoothly, his voice cutting through the noise like a knife.

You stared at him, wide-eyed, as heat rushed to your cheeks. You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but sit there like an idiot, clutching your now-empty drink as the crowd around you dissolved into chants of, “Do it! Do it!”

Kenny raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning slightly teasing. “You gonna leave me hanging, or what?”

Red was practically vibrating with glee, nudging you hard enough to make you lean forward slightly. “Go, go, go!” she whispered, not so quietly. “Don’t fucking chicken out now, babe!”

Your body moved on autopilot. You set your cup down on the floor, your hands trembling as you leaned forward into the circle, feeling like every single pair of eyes in the room was burning into you.

Kenny leaned forward too, moving with a kind of casual confidence that made your breath hitch. His hand came up, his fingers brushing your jaw, the roughness of his palm sending a jolt down your spine. And then his lips were on yours.

The first touch was light, teasing, like he was testing the waters. His lips were softer than you expected, warm and slightly chapped, tasting faintly of beer. He tilted his head slightly, the hand on your jaw tightening just enough to guide you closer, and that was when everything shifted.

He deepened the kiss, pressing into you with a kind of hungry intensity that made your entire body heat up. His other hand slid to the floor for balance as his mouth moved against yours, slow but deliberate, like he was savoring every second. His fingers curled slightly against your skin, and you couldn’t stop the quiet gasp that escaped your lips as his tongue just barely brushed against yours.

The circle exploded into cheers, someone shouting, “Holy shit, get a room!” while another voice yelled, “Fuck, that’s the kiss of the night!”

But you barely heard them. Everything else melted away—the noise, the heat of the room, the chaotic party—until it was just you and Kenny, his lips moving against yours like this wasn’t a game, like this wasn’t just some stupid party stunt. You didn’t even realize your hands had moved until you felt the cool, worn leather of his jacket under your fingers, clutching it like it was the only thing keeping you upright.

Kenny pulled back slowly, his lips hovering just above yours for a moment before he leaned back fully, his smirk softer now, more satisfied. He grabbed his beer and took a long sip, like he hadn’t just turned your entire world upside down in thirty seconds flat.

“Not bad,” he said casually, his blue eyes meeting yours with a flash of something unreadable. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

Your face burned as you sank back into your spot, trying to ignore the roar of applause and laughter from the group. Red grabbed your arm, shaking it like a kid on Christmas morning. “Holy fucking shit , [Y/N]!” she practically screamed. “That was insane! I’m so fucking proud of you!”

You didn’t respond. Your heart was still pounding in your chest, your lips tingling as the memory of his touch replayed over and over in your mind.

The bottle spun again, and the game carried on, the chaos pulling the group’s attention away from you. But you barely registered the next spin, too busy trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Nicole spun next, and the bottle landed on Stan, who blinked in surprise before laughing awkwardly. “Uh, okay,” he muttered, leaning forward as Nicole grabbed his face and kissed him with a little too much enthusiasm, leaving him wide-eyed and slightly stunned.

Red howled with laughter. “Stan, you look like you just got hit by a truck! She’s not gonna bite, dude.”

Stan grumbled something under his breath as the bottle spun again, this time landing on Kenny. The circle roared with laughter as the bottle pointed to Clyde, who shrugged and leaned in with zero hesitation.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Clyde said, smirking as he kissed Kenny firmly, pulling back with a laugh. “Guess you’re not bad, McCormick.”

Kenny raised an eyebrow, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Not bad? Dude, I’m the best you’ve ever had.”

The bottle kept spinning.

It landed on Tweek, and everyone collectively lost it when he had to kiss Bebe, who grinned so hard it looked like her face might split in two.

But through it all, you could barely keep your thoughts straight. Your lips still burned from the kiss, and every glance you stole at Kenny—casually leaning back, sipping his beer like nothing had happened—made your chest ache with something you couldn’t name.

What the fuck just happened?

The bottle clinked softly as it spun, its momentum slowing to a lazy crawl. The circle leaned in, the suspense building as everyone craned their necks to see where it would land. It stopped on Wendy, and someone let out a low whistle as the bottle’s neck pointed at Kyle.

“Oh, shit,” Cartman snorted, his voice dripping with mock glee. “Kyle, my dude, you’re getting lucky tonight! You got to kiss two people other than your mom.”

Kyle groaned loudly, rubbing the back of his neck as he shot Cartman a glare. “Shut the fuck up, Cartman.”

Wendy, sitting cross-legged beside Bebe, smirked. “I don’t know, Kyle. This might be the best offer you’re ever gonna get.”

The circle erupted into laughter, and Kyle’s face turned bright red. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath before leaning forward.

Wendy met him halfway, her lips pressing against his in a quick, clean kiss—no theatrics, no mess. Just simple, fleeting, and surprisingly soft. Kyle pulled back quickly, scratching the back of his head, his ears still red as Wendy settled back in her spot like nothing had happened.

“Tame,” Bebe teased, winking at Wendy. “I was expecting at least a little tongue.”

“Please,” Wendy said, tossing her hair. “I don’t want to traumatize him.”

The group dissolved into laughter again, Cartman cackling obnoxiously as Kyle buried his face in his hands and muttered, “Kill me. Just fucking kill me now.”

But you weren’t laughing. You were still trying to recover from the kiss that had shattered your world. Your gaze darted across the circle to Kenny. He looked completely unfazed, his leather jacket hanging open as he leaned back on his hands, watching the game unfold with that same lazy grin. Like nothing had happened. Like kissing you had been just another spin of the bottle.

Meanwhile, your thoughts were still spiraling, the memory of his lips—his hand on your jaw, his tongue brushing yours—burned into your skin. The noise and heat of the room pressed down on you, the cheers and teasing too loud, the air too thick. You needed to get out of there.

Without thinking, you pushed yourself to your feet. The circle was too focused on the next spin to notice at first, but Red caught your movement and glanced up, frowning slightly.

“Bathroom,” you mumbled, not waiting for her response as you stepped over legs and made your way toward the staircase.

The moment you stood, Kenny’s eyes followed you.

He didn’t call out to you, didn’t say a word, but the weight of his gaze was unmistakable. You felt it on your back as you climbed the stairs, your heart pounding harder with every step.

The bathroom was quieter, but the faint hum of the party still bled through the walls. You locked the door behind you, leaning against it as you let out a shaky breath. The room smelled faintly of cheap soap and lingering beer, but it was mercifully empty, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

You moved to the sink, setting your empty cup down and gripping the edges of the countertop. Your reflection in the mirror stared back at you, flushed and disheveled, your lipstick slightly smudged. You looked... different. Like the kiss had left its mark on you in a way no one else could see but you couldn’t ignore.

You splashed cold water on your face, the chill shocking enough to clear some of the haze in your mind. But the burning in your chest—the ache that had settled there after Kenny’s lips left yours—refused to go away.

“What the fuck just happened?” you whispered to yourself, your voice cracking slightly.

You’d gone to this party thinking it would be like every other one Red dragged you to. Loud, chaotic, full of people you didn’t really know or care to talk to. You’d planned to stay in the background, maybe have a drink or two, and then sneak out early like you always did.

But a stupid, childish game had changed everything.

You pressed your fingers to your lips, the memory of his kiss replaying in your mind like a broken record. The heat of it, the way his hand had cradled your jaw like you were something fragile, something worth holding onto—it had felt like a moment stolen from someone else’s life. Someone more confident, someone who belonged in a room like that.

Because that wasn’t you. You didn’t belong in Kenny McCormick’s orbit.

You rarely even saw his group outside of parties like this. Sure, you knew them—everyone on campus did. Red had pulled you into their circle a few times, but you always felt like an outsider looking in. Stan, Kyle, Wendy, Bebe, Token—they all had this easy rhythm with each other, this shared history that you weren’t a part of.

And then there was Kenny.

Kenny, who was everything you weren’t—charming, confident, magnetic. He could light up a room just by walking into it, and people flocked to him like moths to a flame. He’d never once seemed uncomfortable or out of place, and even if he was, he hid it well.

You, on the other hand, stuck to the edges of the crowd, watching from the sidelines like you were afraid to get too close. And maybe you were. Because this was what happened when you let yourself get too close—you kissed a boy who would never see it as more than a game, and then you spent the rest of the night trying to hold yourself together.

Your stomach twisted painfully at the thought. Kenny had kissed you, yes, but it hadn’t meant anything to him. He’d kissed you because the bottle told him to, because that was the game. And maybe, for a second, you’d let yourself believe it was more than that. But it wasn’t.

You closed your eyes, gripping the sink tighter.

It was just a kiss. Just a game.

So why did it feel like something had cracked open inside you?

Before you could spiral any further, the doorknob rattled violently behind you. You jumped, spinning around as someone knocked twice.

“Occupied!” you called, your voice sharper than you intended.

A muffled voice replied, “Yeah, no shit. You’ve been in there forever. Can you hurry the fuck up?”

You winced, smoothing your hair quickly as you called back, “One second!”

With a deep breath, you unlocked the door and pulled it open, coming face-to-face with a girl in a too-tight sequined dress holding an empty cup and looking thoroughly unimpressed. She raised her eyebrows and shoved past you without a word, muttering, “Finally,” under her breath.

The hallway felt even more stifling than the bathroom. The faint roar of the party downstairs pressed at your ears, and your pulse quickened at the thought of going back down there. You weren’t ready to face Red or the circle again. Definitely not Kenny.

You needed more time. More space.

Glancing down the hall, you noticed a slightly ajar door at the end, the room beyond it dimly lit by what looked like the glow of a bedside lamp. An empty room. Perfect.

You moved quickly, your heels clicking against the hardwood as you made your way to the door. Pushing it open, you stepped inside—and froze.

A couple was tangled together on the bed, their limbs a blur as they kissed with all the ferocity of two people who had clearly forgotten there was a party happening outside. The girl’s shirt was halfway off, her back arched as the guy kissed his way down her neck, and neither of them noticed you standing there like an idiot.

“Oh my God, shit !” you blurted, stumbling backward.

The girl whipped her head around, her eyes wide. “What the fuck?”

“Sorry! Fuck, sorry!” you stammered, your face burning as you fumbled for the door handle and pulled it shut behind you.

You stood in the hallway for a moment, your pulse racing as you leaned back against the closed door. The embarrassment was immediate and suffocating, but it was nothing compared to the swirling mess of emotions still clinging to you like a second skin.

I can’t go back down there.

You turned away from the door and headed further down the hall, scanning for another empty room. This time, you made sure to listen for voices—or other noises—before cracking open a door and peeking inside.

The next room was empty, its bed neatly made, the faint smell of stale laundry lingering in the air. You slipped inside and closed the door softly behind you, leaning against it as you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

Finally, some fucking peace.

You’d been in the room for a few minutes, sitting cross-legged on the bed and staring blankly at the far wall. The initial rush of relief from escaping the party had worn off, leaving you alone with your swirling thoughts and the faint thump of bass vibrating through the floor.

You barely had a chance to think about what you were feeling before the door creaked open. You tensed, your head snapping up as your heart skipped a beat.

“Red, I’m fine,” you said quickly, already anticipating her loud, teasing voice as the door clicked shut again. “I just needed a second. You don’t have to—”

“I’m not Red.”

The voice was smooth, casual, and distinctly male. Your stomach flipped as Kenny stepped into view, leaning back against the now-closed door with his hands shoved casually into the pockets of his leather jacket. His blonde hair was a mess, his jeans ripped and frayed at the knees, his blue eyes gleaming with something that sent a jolt of energy straight through you.

You’d barely turned away from Kenny, gripping the edge of the bed in an effort to calm yourself, when he spoke again, his voice low and maddeningly casual.

“You know, I’ve gotta give it to you,” he said, leaning back against the desk like he owned the place. “You’ve done a pretty good job pretending you don’t have a thing for me.”

The words hit you like a slap. Your head snapped up, and you stared at him, your face burning so hot you were surprised it hadn’t burst into flames. “What?” you blurted, your voice cracking slightly.

Kenny’s smirk widened, and he tilted his head, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief. “C’mon, [Y/N]. Two years. You’ve been crushing on me since that stupid physics class freshman year. Don’t act like I’m wrong.”

Your stomach twisted violently, a mix of shock and mortification bubbling to the surface. “You’re insane,” you said quickly, though your voice betrayed you with a slight tremor. “I don’t—I don’t have a thing for you.”

“Sure,” Kenny said, dragging the word out with deliberate skepticism. He stepped closer, his leather jacket creaking slightly as he leaned down just enough to catch your gaze. “You’re just up here hiding because you got bored of the party, right? Not because a certain someone kissed you in front of everyone?”

Your throat tightened, and you gritted your teeth, refusing to look at him. “It’s just a game,” you muttered, the words barely audible.

Kenny laughed softly, the sound low and teasing as he straightened up again. “Yeah, maybe. But you weren’t exactly complaining.” He shoved his hands back into his jacket pockets, his grin sharp as he watched you squirm. “Admit it—you’ve been dying to kiss me for years. The game just made it easier for you.”

Your mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. The sheer audacity of his words had knocked the air out of your lungs, and you couldn’t tell if you wanted to punch him or crawl into a hole.

“You’re such an asshole,” you said finally, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

Kenny’s smirk didn’t waver. If anything, it deepened. “Probably,” he said, shrugging slightly. “But I’m not wrong, am I?”

Your silence only made him grin wider, and he took another step closer, closing the space between you until he was just a foot away. “You don’t have to be shy about it, you know. It’s kinda flattering.”

“Flattering?” you echoed, incredulous.

“Yeah,” he said, his tone casual but laced with a teasing edge. “You’ve been watching me like I’m the answer to a fucking physics problem for two years, [Y/N]. Kinda nice knowing I’ve got that effect on you.”

Your face burned, and you scowled, finally forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“Maybe,” Kenny said, unfazed. His grin softened slightly, his blue eyes studying you with a mix of amusement and something else—something that made your stomach twist all over again. “But I’m not wrong.”

Your hands tightened around the edge of the desk as you searched for something—anything—to say that would wipe that infuriating smirk off his face. But all you could think about was the way his lips had felt on yours, the way his hand had cradled your jaw like you were something he didn’t want to let go of.

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse spike. “You can tell me I’m wrong, [Y/N]. Say the word, and I’ll leave.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, the air between you felt impossibly heavy. He was close enough now that you could see the faint scruff on his jaw, the way his lips curved into a knowing smile.

Kenny’s smirk lingered, sharp and teasing, as he watched you, his blue eyes locking onto yours like he was daring you to react. The air between you was charged, heavy with something you couldn’t name but couldn’t ignore. You should’ve said something, should’ve pushed him away with a sarcastic remark, but instead, you froze, every nerve in your body screaming in anticipation.

“Still quiet, huh?” he said softly, taking another step closer. His hand lifted, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, the touch light but deliberate. “That’s not like you, [Y/N]. You usually have some smart-ass comment ready.”

Your throat tightened, but before you could form a response, he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. “C’mon,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you haven’t been waiting for this.”

And then his lips were on yours.

It wasn’t like the kiss from the game, the one that had left your head spinning in front of everyone. This kiss was something else entirely. It was deliberate, intense, like Kenny had been waiting for this moment just as much as you had. His lips moved with a kind of confidence that made your knees weak, his hand sliding to the back of your neck to pull you closer.

Your heart pounded, your hands moving instinctively to his chest, clutching at the cool leather of his jacket. He deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing lightly against yours, sending a rush of heat through your entire body. You couldn’t stop the soft sound that escaped your throat, and he responded by pulling you closer, his other hand settling firmly on your waist.

You should’ve been thinking about a million things—how you’d gotten here, what this meant, what it would mean tomorrow—but all you could think about was him. The way his hands felt so sure against your skin. The way his lips seemed to know exactly how to pull you apart.

But then, like a splash of cold water, the thought crept in: This is what he does.

Kenny McCormick. The guy who could charm anyone with a single grin. The guy who kissed girls like it was a game he was born to win. You’d seen it—heard the stories, watched him with your own eyes as he flirted, teased, hooked up, and moved on without so much as a backward glance.

What made you think this was any different?

And yet, even as the thought surfaced, it didn’t make you stop. If anything, it made you kiss him harder, your hands sliding up to his shoulders as you pressed yourself closer. Because the truth was, you didn’t want this to end—not yet. Not when his hands felt so good on your skin, not when his lips left you breathless with every movement.

Kenny pulled back just slightly, enough to let you breathe, but his lips didn’t go far, brushing lightly against yours as he spoke. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. His hand on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him as his blue eyes flicked over your face. “You’re fucking killing me, [Y/N].”

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. He leaned in again, his lips trailing along your jaw, down to the curve of your neck, where his teeth scraped lightly against your skin. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, and your fingers tightened on his shoulders as a soft gasp escaped you.

“Kenny...” you managed, though his name came out more like a plea than anything else.

“Yeah?” he murmured against your skin, his voice dripping with that infuriating, cocky edge. His hand slid from your waist to your hip, his fingers digging in just enough to make your breath catch. “You want me to stop?”

You didn’t answer, but the way your nails dug into his jacket was answer enough. He grinned against your neck, his lips curving into something devilish as he pressed another kiss to your skin, slower this time, more deliberate.

“That’s what I thought,” he said softly, his voice almost a growl.

You didn’t even realize you were moving until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed. Kenny followed your movement, his hand leaving your hip to cup the side of your face as he kissed you again, harder this time, like he couldn’t get enough. He walked you back until you were sitting on the edge of the bed, his jacket brushing against your bare knees as he stood between them.

The kiss deepened, his hands moving with a confidence that left no room for doubt. And for the first time that night, you didn’t care about the stories, the rumors, the reputation. None of it mattered—not when he was here, not when his hands were on you, not when he was looking at you like you were the only thing that existed in the world.

You reached for him, tugging at his jacket as your pulse raced, and Kenny smirked against your lips, his hands trailing down your sides as he leaned in closer. His voice was low, teasing, and utterly maddening as he whispered, “Let me guess—you’ve been thinking about this too, huh?”

Your cheeks burned, but you didn’t pull away, your fingers curling tighter into the fabric of his jacket.

“I fucking knew it,” he muttered, his grin sharp as his lips captured yours again, cutting off whatever protest you might’ve had. He bit your bottom lip, but not enough to draw blood, and with a hunger that left no room for coherent thought.

Kenny’s hands were everywhere: tangled in your hair, bunching up the hem of your tiny black dress, skating lower until his fingers grazed over the fabric of your lace panties. Your breath hitched and stuttered between small gasps as his fingers tauntingly traced the intricacies of your black panties while his mouth went to work on your neck.

Your hand gripped his, stopping his fingers that almost dipped into your underwear hemline. Kenny stopped moving, his teeth barely grazing your delicate skin on your neck.

“What’s wrong babe?” He placed a quick kiss on the particular spot he has been sucking at, sending a shiver down your spine. 

Your other hand was still gripping his leather jacket, and you finally opened your eyes to see him looking at you, blue eyes pooled with lust, and it was hard to pull away from him. Hard to deny him what he wanted, which was you .

Kenny’s smirk deepened, his blue eyes gleaming with an unsettling mix of charm and intent as he brushed his thumb over your hip. His hand stayed on your neck, his fingers warm against your skin as his lips lingered close to yours.

“You’re scared,” he murmured, his tone soft but dripping with something sharper. His lips moved to your jaw, pressing a kiss there, slow and deliberate. “I can feel it.”

Your breath hitched, and you tried to turn your head, but his grip on your neck was firm enough to stop you. He tilted your face back toward him, his grin sharp as his eyes searched yours. “You’re thinking too much again, babe,” he said, his voice dipping lower. “Why do you always do that? Ruins all the fun.”

You swallowed hard, your grip on his leather jacket tightening as you tried to ground yourself. “Kenny, I don’t—this isn’t—”

“This isn’t what?” he cut in, his voice still soft but edged with mockery. “What you wanted? Because that’s bullshit, and we both know it.” His other hand skimmed up your thigh, his fingers barely grazing the hem of your dress. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me? You’ve been waiting for this, [Y/N]. Don’t act like you haven’t.”

Your face burned, and your breath stuttered. “It’s not—it’s not that simple.”

Kenny’s laugh was low, quiet, and almost cruel. “Sure it is,” he said, leaning in closer until his lips brushed against your ear. “You’ve been watching me for years. Hell, you probably spent all of freshman physics imagining this exact moment. Don’t tell me I’m wrong, babe. You’re not that good at lying.”

You stiffened, your pulse racing as his words sank in. He wasn’t wrong—you knew he wasn’t. But the way he said it, like it was a joke, like it didn’t matter, made something twist in your chest.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” you whispered, barely audible.

Kenny chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your neck as his lips trailed lower. “Good ideas are overrated,” he murmured, his teeth grazing your skin. “Besides, what’s the worst that happens? You let yourself have a little fun for once?”

He leaned back slightly, his hand sliding up your side to rest on your waist. His blue eyes locked onto yours, his grin still in place but softer now, almost coaxing. “Look, babe. You don’t have to pretend to be nervous. It’s me. You’ve had a crush on me for years, and now you’ve got me right here, all over you. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Your breath hitched again, and your hands twitched against his jacket, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. His words cut through your defenses, twisting your thoughts until you couldn’t tell what was real anymore.

“Or,” Kenny continued, his voice dropping even lower, his smirk growing sharper, “are you scared because you know this won’t be just some sweet little kiss you’ll forget about tomorrow? You’re scared because you want it too much.”

You stared at him, your mind spinning. Every nerve in your body screamed at you to stop, to step back, to think this through. But you couldn’t—not with his hands on you, his lips brushing against your skin, his voice wrapping around you like a velvet rope.

“I...” Your voice faltered, and Kenny leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss before you could finish.

This time, there was nothing soft about it. His lips moved against yours with a confidence that made your knees weak, his hands pulling you closer like he couldn’t stand to have even an inch of space between you. His tongue brushed against yours, and the heat that followed burned through any remaining shred of resistance you had.

His fingers slid to the edge of your panties again, teasingly tracing the hem as he kissed you harder, his lips leaving you breathless. Your thoughts blurred, every rational part of your brain shutting down as you melted into his touch.

“See?” he muttered against your lips, his voice rough but tinged with amusement. “You just needed someone to help you relax. I’m good at that, babe.”

Your fingers curled into his jacket, your body moving on instinct as his hand slipped lower, brushing against the lace with deliberate slowness.

“Just let it happen, [Y/N],” he whispered, his grin evident in his tone as he trailed kisses down your neck. “Stop fighting it. Stop thinking so fucking much. You’ve been waiting for this. Let yourself have it.”

His words wrapped around you, warm and commanding, until you couldn’t remember why you’d ever hesitated.

Kenny’s hand slid beneath the lacy edge of your panties, his fingers tracing lazy circles over the slick heat of your clit. You gasped against his mouth, your legs opening further without even realizing it.

His thumb grazed over your swollen nub once, twice, then three times in quick succession before he stopped. Kenny withdrew his fingers with an almost satisfied smirk on his lips as if daring you to protest.

The brain fog was real, yes you did want this, you want Kenny, but did Kenny want you in the same way you wanted him? You were basically in his lap now, and you could feel his chest pressed against your back, his head on your shoulder and arms wrapped lazily on your waist. His slender fingers pinched at your clit, almost to remind you to stop worrying, to stop thinking .

Kenny’s fingers worked their magic, slow and deliberate, as though he had all the time in the world. The lazy circles he traced over your clit were maddening, every stroke sending jolts of electricity through your body. You gasped, your back arching instinctively as his other hand tightened on your waist, keeping you steady, keeping you his.

“See?” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? All you had to do was let go, babe.”

His voice was like a drug, thick and intoxicating, making it impossible to think straight. The questions buzzing at the edge of your mind—about what this meant, about whether he’d still want you tomorrow—faded into a haze of desire as he dipped his fingers lower.

Kenny’s slender fingers slid between your folds, slick and warm, his movements unhurried but devastatingly precise. His thumb pressed firmly against your clit while his middle finger teased at your entrance, dipping in just enough to make you gasp before retreating.

“God, you’re so worked up,” he teased, his grin evident in his voice. “All for me, huh? Admit it—you’ve been thinking about this for years.”

Your breath hitched, and you couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped your lips as his finger finally slipped inside you, curling slightly to hit just the right spot.

“Kenny,” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper.

“Yeah, babe?” His tone was cocky, playful, but there was an edge of satisfaction there, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

You opened your mouth to respond, but another flick of his thumb over your clit left you breathless, your head falling back against his shoulder. He chuckled softly, his lips brushing against your neck as he pressed a kiss there, slow and deliberate.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his fingers moving deeper, working you open with agonizing precision. “You’re so fucking cute when you stop pretending to have it all together.”

His free hand slid up your side, bunching the fabric of your dress higher until it pooled around your hips. You were completely exposed now, and the thought should’ve embarrassed you, but Kenny’s touch made it impossible to care. His hand moved back to your waist, holding you firmly in place as his fingers continued their slow, deliberate rhythm inside you.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he muttered, his voice rougher now, his breathing heavier as his thumb pressed harder against your clit. “It’s like you’ve been waiting for me to ruin you.”

Your chest rose and fell in short, shallow breaths, every nerve in your body alive with sensation. His words sent another shiver down your spine, the heat pooling low in your belly growing stronger with every second.

“Kenny,” you whimpered again, your hands clutching at his jacket as your thighs trembled around his wrist.

“Relax, babe,” he said, his tone both commanding and soothing, like he was unraveling you one word at a time. “I’ve got you. Just let me take care of you.”

His thumb moved faster, his fingers curling and twisting inside you in a way that made you feel like you were going to come undone at any moment. The pleasure was overwhelming, and all the doubts and fears that had plagued you before were drowned out by the relentless wave of sensation crashing over you.

“You feel so fucking good, [Y/N],” Kenny whispered, his voice thick with heat. “God, I’ve been waiting for this. You don’t even know.”

The words made your heart twist in a confusing mix of desire and doubt, but his thumb flicked over your clit again, and the thought vanished, replaced by a soft cry that you couldn’t hold back.

“That’s it,” Kenny murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Good girl. Just let go.”

Your breathing was ragged, every nerve in your body ablaze as Kenny’s fingers continued their slow, overstimulating work. His lips brushed along the curve of your neck, teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp. The world outside this room faded entirely—there was only him, his touch, his voice, the intoxicating way he made you feel like nothing else mattered.

Before you realized what you were doing, you turned your head, capturing his lips in a kiss that was clumsy and desperate, all teeth and tongue. Kenny stilled for a moment, surprised, but then he grinned against your mouth, his fingers curling inside you as he kissed you back with just as much fervor.

“Finally,” he muttered against your lips, his voice teasing but thick with heat. “Thought you’d never—”

You didn’t let him finish. Your hands moved on their own, pawing at the leather of his jacket, tugging at it with a kind of frantic urgency that made him laugh softly against your mouth.

“You want it off, babe?” he asked, his tone dripping with smug amusement.

“Shut up,” you muttered, tugging harder, your fingers fumbling with the collar as Kenny pulled back slightly, grinning down at you.

“Alright, alright,” he said, shrugging out of the jacket with practiced ease, the worn leather falling to the floor with a heavy thud. His hands returned to you immediately, one sliding up to cup your face as he kissed you again, his tongue brushing against yours in a way that made your knees weak.

Your hands moved to the hem of his shirt next, tugging at the fabric in your haste to feel more of him. Kenny chuckled against your lips, his hands pausing just long enough to pull the shirt over his head, tossing it carelessly to the side.

The sight of him—bare-chested, his lean frame covered in faint scars and old bruises, his messy blonde hair falling into his eyes—made your breath hitch. He looked every bit as dangerous as he felt, and it made your stomach twist in the best possible way.

“Happy now?” he teased, his lips curving into that familiar, cocky smirk as he caught your wrist and brought your hand to his chest, letting your fingers splay across his warm skin.

You didn’t answer, too focused on the way his skin felt under your fingertips, the way his muscles tensed and flexed as he moved. Kenny seemed to enjoy your distraction, his grin widening as his hands found the straps of your dress, his fingers toying with the thin fabric.

“Let’s even the playing field, huh?” he murmured, his voice low and rough as he slid one strap down your shoulder, then the other.

Your breath hitched again, and you swallowed hard as the fabric slipped lower, pooling at your waist and leaving your chest completely exposed. Kenny’s blue eyes darkened as they swept over you, his grin softening into something more intimate, though no less wicked.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice quiet but heavy with heat. His hand came up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing lightly over your nipple in a way that made your whole body shiver. “You’re fucking perfect, you know that?”

His words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, your face burning as his mouth found your collarbone, trailing kisses down to the swell of your chest. His hands were everywhere now—your waist, your thighs, your bare skin—pulling you closer, urging you to let go completely.

The heat between you was suffocating, Kenny’s lips moving against your neck, his hands roaming your body like he couldn’t get enough of you. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess, too overwhelmed to focus on anything but him—his touch, his scent, the way he made you feel like every nerve in your body was alight.

You shifted in his lap without thinking, your legs straddling him as you tried to get closer, to feel more. That was when you noticed it—the hardness pressing against you through his jeans, hot and insistent. A soft gasp escaped your lips, but you didn’t pull back. If anything, your body moved on instinct, your hips rolling slowly against him.

The reaction was immediate. Kenny groaned low in his throat, his hands tightening on your hips as he rocked up to meet you. “Fuck, [Y/N],” he muttered, his voice rough with want. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.”

The sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t stop yourself from moving again, the friction igniting a fire in your belly. Kenny’s head tipped back slightly, his eyes fluttering shut as his lips parted, another soft groan escaping him.

“You don’t even realize what you’re doing, do you?” he said, his voice low and breathless, though the teasing edge was still there. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements as you continued to grind against him, your breaths coming quicker with every roll of your hips.

Your hands braced against his chest, your fingers splayed across his bare skin as you tried to ground yourself, but the feel of his hard length pressing against you through the rough fabric of his jeans made your head spin. Kenny’s eyes opened, half-lidded and dark with lust, and his lips curved into a wicked grin.

“[Y/N],” he said, his voice softer now, his thumbs brushing lazy circles over your hips. “You wanna make me feel good, don’t you?”

The question caught you off guard, your movements faltering slightly as your heart pounded in your chest. “I...” you started, your voice barely audible, but Kenny didn’t let you finish.

“C’mon, babe,” he murmured, his hands sliding up to cup your face as he tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “You’re already driving me fucking crazy. Let’s see if that pretty mouth of yours feels as good as it looks.”

Your face burned at his words, your pulse racing as you realized what he was asking. His grin widened, sensing your hesitation, and he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

“You don’t have to, you know,” he said, his voice low and coaxing, though the look in his eyes made it clear how much he wanted this. “But I’m pretty sure you want to.”

His hands moved back to your waist, his fingers tracing light patterns over your skin as he gave you time to respond. The intensity of his gaze, the heat of his body pressed against yours—it was all too much. Your thoughts blurred again, your body moving almost on its own as you leaned forward, capturing his lips in another kiss that was just as desperate as the first.

“Good girl,” Kenny murmured against your lips, his voice dripping with approval as he leaned back slightly, his hands guiding you lower.

Your hands trembled slightly as they moved to the waistband of Kenny’s jeans, fingers brushing against the cool metal of his belt buckle. The steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your palms and the intense way his blue eyes bore into yours only added to your nerves. You tugged at the leather strap, unbuckling his belt with a quick, jerky movement, the sound of the metal clinking loud in the quiet room.

Kenny didn’t rush you. He leaned back slightly, propping himself up on his elbows, his grin lazy but sharp as his gaze followed your every move. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice low and encouraging. “You’re doing good, babe.”

You bit your lip, fumbling with the button of his jeans, the zipper sliding down with an almost deafening sound. Your heart pounded in your chest as you glanced up at him, your fingers hesitating just above the waistband of his boxers.

“What’s the matter?” Kenny asked, tilting his head slightly, the smirk on his lips softening into something that almost resembled concern. “You nervous?”

“I just...” you trailed off, your voice barely audible. Your face felt impossibly hot, the weight of his gaze making your skin prickle as you tried to focus on the task at hand.

Kenny sat up then, his hand cupping your cheek as he tilted your face toward him. “Hey,” he said softly, his tone coaxing but firm. “Don’t overthink it, [Y/N]. You’ve come this far. You can handle it.” His thumb brushed lightly over your skin, the gesture both soothing and maddeningly intimate.

Your breath hitched, and you nodded slightly, though the hesitation still lingered. Kenny’s grin returned, sharper this time, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You wanna make me feel good, don’t you?”

The way he said it—low, husky, and dripping with intent—sent a shiver down your spine. Your fingers curled into the waistband of his boxers, and Kenny chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin.

“There’s my girl,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to rest lightly on yours. “Just pull ‘em down. I promise, you’re gonna like what you see.”

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you finally tugged at the fabric, exposing him. Kenny hissed softly as the cool air hit him, his hand moving to rest on the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice rough as he leaned back on his elbows again, his head tipping back slightly. His blue eyes, half-lidded and dark with lust, found yours again, and his lips curved into a wicked grin. “Go on, babe. Don’t be shy.”

Your breath stuttered, the heat between you almost suffocating as you leaned closer. Kenny’s hand tightened slightly in your hair, his voice dropping even lower as he murmured, “That’s it. Just use that pretty mouth of yours. I know you can make me feel good.”

You leaned closer, your breath warm against his length as your lips parted, your hands trembling slightly as they steadied themselves on his thighs. The heat radiating from his skin, the weight of his gaze on you, and the teasing smirk still playing on his lips all sent your nerves spiraling.

Tentatively, you leaned in, your lips brushing over the sensitive tip as you gave an experimental lick. Kenny’s breath hitched, his fingers tightening in your hair, though his voice remained soft, coaxing. “Just like that, babe. Don’t be shy.”

Your cheeks burned, but his encouragement spurred you on. You opened your mouth wider, taking him in slowly, though the unfamiliar sensation made you hesitate. Kenny groaned low in his throat, his hips shifting slightly as you moved, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

“Fuck, [Y/N],” he muttered, his voice rough and low. His fingers stroked the back of your head, gentle but firm as he guided your movements. “You’re doing good, babe. Just take it slow.”

His words were a strange mix of comforting and maddening, your heart racing as you worked to find a rhythm. The weight of him in your mouth was foreign, your inexperience making your movements clumsy, but Kenny didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he seemed to enjoy it more, his groans deepening every time you adjusted or tried something new.

“Use your tongue,” he murmured, his voice strained but still laced with that teasing edge. “Yeah, just like that. Fuck, you’re a natural, babe.”

Your hands gripped his thighs harder as you moved, the heat between you building with every second. Kenny’s breathing grew heavier, his groans spilling from his lips in low, husky tones that made your own body flush with heat. His guidance was constant, his fingers tangled in your hair as he urged you to go a little deeper, to hollow your cheeks, to let him guide you just a little more.

“God, you’re fucking perfect,” he muttered, his voice almost a growl now. “So good, [Y/N]. Just keep going. Don’t stop.”

The praise made your chest tighten, your movements becoming more confident as you focused on the way his body reacted, the way his hips bucked slightly when you hit the right spot. The tension in his body coiled tighter, his groans breaking into uneven breaths as he threw his head back, his grip in your hair tightening.

“Fuck, [Y/N],” he gasped, his voice rough and strained. “I’m close. Just—just keep going.”

And then it happened. A sudden, warm rush that caught you completely off guard, the taste unfamiliar and overwhelming as it spilled into your mouth. You froze, your eyes wide, unsure of what to do, but Kenny’s hand in your hair kept you steady, his voice breathless as he murmured, “Just swallow, babe. It’s okay.”

Your heart pounded, your body moving on instinct as you followed his words, though your mind raced with panic. When it was over, you pulled back quickly, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand as you tried to process what had just happened.

“Hey,” Kenny said softly, his voice still rough from his release but now tinged with amusement. He leaned forward, his hand cupping your cheek as he tilted your face toward him. “Relax. You did fucking amazing.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, the kiss slow but insistent. You stiffened at first, the taste of him still on your lips, but Kenny didn’t let you pull away. His tongue slid against yours, his grip on your face firm but gentle as he deepened the kiss.

“You taste fucking perfect,” he murmured against your lips, his grin wicked as he leaned back slightly to look at you. “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Your cheeks burned, and you looked away, the weight of his words and the intensity of his gaze making your stomach twist. Kenny chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he tilted your face back to meet his eyes.

“Don’t overthink it, babe,” he said, his voice low but coaxing. “You were fucking perfect.”

Kenny’s grin widened as he pulled back, his hands moving to your hips as he guided you to lay back on the bed. The soft fabric of the mattress pressed against your back, the weight of his presence above you making your heart race. He brushed his blonde hair out of his eyes, the smirk on his lips as lazy as ever, but the fire in his gaze sent a shiver through you.

“You ready to have some real fun, babe?” he murmured, his voice low and dripping with intent. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers, sliding them down and tossing them to the side in one smooth motion.

Your breath hitched as the reality of what was about to happen hit you all at once. Panic bubbled up, and before he could move further, you reached out, grabbing his wrist to stop him. “Kenny, wait,” you said quickly, your voice trembling slightly. “Do you... do you have a condom?”

Kenny blinked, momentarily surprised by your question, before his smirk returned, softer this time but still sharp around the edges. “Relax, babe,” he said, his voice soothing as his free hand trailed up your side, his thumb brushing over your bare skin. “I’ll pull out. I promise.”

Your stomach twisted, doubt flickering in your chest even as his touch sent your pulse skyrocketing. “I don’t know, Kenny,” you said, your voice quieter now, unsure.

He leaned down, bracing himself on his forearm as his lips brushed against your ear. “[Y/N],” he murmured, his tone soft but commanding, “I’ve got this. It won’t hurt a bit. You trust me, don’t you?”

The weight of his words made your chest tighten, and you found yourself nodding before you could stop yourself. Kenny grinned against your neck, pressing a soft kiss to your skin as his hand slid back down to your waist, his fingers brushing against the hem of your panties.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, his lips curving into a wicked grin as he trailed kisses down your collarbone. “Just relax. I’ll make sure you love every second of it.”

You gasp as Kenny’s fingers slide to the elastic of your panties, slowly tugging them down until the cool air brushes your skin. His eyes trace every inch of your now-exposed body, his gaze lingering with a mix of hunger and admiration before meeting yours.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly, low, and thick with desire.

The first brush of his thumb over your most sensitive spot sends a shockwave through you, your breath catching in your throat. The sensation is electric, but it’s nothing compared to what follows—the warm, deliberate slide of his length against you. The heat of him against your slick skin makes your back arch, your body reacting instinctively to the overwhelming sensation.

Kenny doesn’t look away. His eyes remain locked on yours as he teases further, nudging himself against your entrance with painstaking slowness. Each movement is deliberate, each shift drawing out the anticipation until the first stretch pulls a sharp gasp from your lips.

“Relax,” he murmurs, his voice soft but commanding. “It’s gonna feel so good, babe.”

The first push feels impossibly tight, your body struggling to adjust to the unfamiliar intrusion, and you gasp again, the sharpness of the sensation stealing the breath from your lungs. Kenny pauses, his lips brushing yours as his hands settle on your hips, grounding you.

“You’ve got this,” he reassures you, his voice a low rasp. “Just let me take care of you.”

The slow stretch continues, his movements deliberate and steady, giving you time to adjust as he sinks deeper. Your legs wrap around him instinctively, pulling him closer, your arms moving to his neck as you cling to him. Your fingers grip at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you bury your face against his neck, trying to ride out the sharp edge of discomfort that lingers.

“You feel amazing,” he groans, his voice tight, roughened with restraint. “So tight, babe. So damn good.”

His words send another jolt through you, and you exhale shakily as the discomfort begins to ease, the stretch giving way to a warmth that makes your body tremble. Kenny’s hips rock gently, a slow, lazy rhythm that pulls a soft moan from your lips.

“There you go,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against the curve of your shoulder. “See? I told you it’d feel good.”

The deep timbre of his voice, the way it vibrates against your skin, only intensifies the sensations coursing through you. Your nails rake against his back, leaving faint welts as your body instinctively moves with him, your hips meeting his in slow, deliberate motions.

“Kenny...” you whisper, the word slipping from your lips unbidden as the heat between you builds.

“Yeah, babe?” His grin is audible in his voice, though there’s a roughness to it now, a hint of strain as he fights to keep his movements steady. “You feel so good. I could stay like this forever.”

Each roll of his hips pulls a broken sound from your throat, the slow, deliberate rhythm becoming something more as the heat coils tighter in your belly. Kenny’s hands grip your waist, his movements becoming slightly firmer, more confident, as he pushes you closer to the edge.

“You’re so perfect,” he breathes again, his words low and reverent. His lips find yours in a kiss that is both tender and consuming, a perfect balance of raw passion and unspoken connection as the rhythm of his body claims every inch of yours.

A ragged gasp tore from Kenny’s lips as he buried his face against your neck, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. “God,” he rasped, his voice thick and strained, his movements growing erratic. “I’m close.”

His grip on your hips tightened as he drove into you deeper, each thrust more insistent than the last. The tension in his body coiled tighter, his breath catching in a guttural groan as he pressed himself fully against you. The world blurred as you clung to him, your nails raking across his back as you gasped his name, your own body trembling beneath the force of him.

“[Y/N],” he groaned, his voice breaking as his rhythm faltered. With one final, shuddering thrust, he stilled, his entire body taut as a low, desperate sound escaped his throat. His release hit like a surge of heat, a wave of sensation that made you shiver as he held you close, his forehead pressed against yours.

Kenny’s breathing was uneven, his lips brushing over your jaw as he murmured, “You’re incredible.” His words were raw, broken, carrying a weight that made your chest tighten. The warmth between you pulsed with the aftershocks of his release, his grip on your waist softening as he ran his hand down your back, grounding you both.

The tension in your body snapped moments later, your own pleasure unraveling in a dizzying, all-consuming wave. Your legs tightened around him, a choked cry spilling from your lips as you arched into him, every nerve in your body alight with sensation. His name fell from your mouth like a prayer, your voice breathless and hoarse as you trembled against him.

Kenny held you through it, his hands steadying you as he pressed soft, lingering kisses to your shoulder, your neck, your lips. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, a thread of satisfaction lacing his words. “Just let it all go.”

When the storm passed, a calm settled over the room, the only sound the soft hum of your breathing mixing with his. He didn’t move, his body still pressed against yours as his hands roamed your back in slow, soothing circles. The heat between you was still tangible, still buzzing, but the intensity had softened, replaced by something quieter, something that made you hesitate to pull away.

Kenny smiled, a faint, crooked grin tugging at his lips as he looked down at you, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You okay, babe?” he asked, his voice warm but teasing, the familiar edge of his charm still lingering.

You nodded, your chest still rising and falling with each heavy breath. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m okay.”

Your breaths came shallow and uneven as the weight of what had just happened pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket. Kenny still hovered above you, his messy blonde hair falling into his eyes, the familiar smirk on his lips lazy and satisfied. The heat of the moment was fading, replaced by a sinking, gnawing sensation in your stomach.

He hadn’t pulled out.

The realization hit you all at once, making your chest tighten as panic bubbled to the surface. You sat up slowly, pulling the crumpled fabric of your dress around yourself as you tried to form a coherent thought, but your voice felt lodged in your throat.

Kenny leaned back on his knees, running a hand through his hair before reaching for his jeans. His movements were unhurried, his expression still smug as he buttoned his pants. He looked over at you, noticing the tension in your posture, and grinned.

“Damn,” he said, his voice gravelly but playful. “You were something else, babe.”

Before you could respond, a sharp knock on the door startled you both.

“Hey!” someone called from the other side. “Hurry the fuck up, man. People are starting to wonder where you went!”

Kenny smirked, throwing a glance toward the door. “I’ll be out in a minute!” he yelled back, his tone light and teasing. “Try not to miss me too much!”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to laugh. The lump in your throat grew heavier as you tugged the straps of your dress back onto your shoulders, your heart racing as you replayed everything in your mind. The regret was creeping in now, sharp and cold, but before you could fully grasp it, Kenny turned his attention back to you.

He pulled his shirt over his head, his grin widening when he noticed your wide eyes and tense shoulders. “What’s the look for?” he teased, leaning down to grab his jacket from the floor. “You’re not freaking out on me, are you?”

Your lips parted, but the words were slow to come. “Kenny,” you started, your voice trembling slightly. “You said... you said you’d pull out.”

For a fleeting moment, his grin faltered, but it was quickly replaced with the same casual, cocky smirk that made your stomach twist. “Yeah, well,” he said, shrugging as he slung his jacket over his shoulder. “Guess I got a little caught up in the moment. You’re just that good.”

The flippancy of his words hit you like a punch to the gut, and the panic bubbling inside you surged to the surface. “Kenny, I—”

“Relax,” he interrupted, cutting you off as he straightened up. “You’re fine, babe. It’s not a big deal.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening as the meaning of his words sank in. He was already pulling on his jacket, his eyes flicking toward the door like he had somewhere more important to be.

“Was this—was this all just a game to you?” you asked, your voice trembling despite your efforts to steady it.

Kenny paused, his hand on the doorknob. He turned to look at you, his blue eyes glinting with something unreadable before his smirk returned, sharper this time. “Look,” he said, his tone smooth and casual, “it was fun, right? No hard feelings .”

Your stomach dropped. The words felt like a slap, cold and dismissive, confirming every fear that had gnawed at the back of your mind.

He opened the door, stepping into the hallway as voices from the party below drifted into the room. “See you around, [Y/N],” he said, throwing you one last grin before disappearing into the noise.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone in the dimly lit bedroom. The silence felt deafening, the sinking feeling in your chest impossible to ignore. You pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as your mind raced.

You’d been played. And the worst part was, you’d let it happen.

[siriuslystyle1989]

heyy can you make an modernazriel x female reader based off the song kiwi by harry styles and maybe throw in some cardigan and champagne problems type storyline ? i love your work sm <33 although if you dont mind im begging you to make longer fic, you can do it as series too (if thats okay with u) byeee

Hard Liquor Mixed With A Bit Of Intellect (part 1)

Series masterlist misc masterlist

modern!Azriel x fem!reader

Warnings: Kissing, drinking, smoking (cigarettes)

A/n Hii lovely!! tysm for the request! I have been wanting to make a series for the longest time so this is a perfect opportunity to do so!! Here is part one, hope it lives up to your expectations!

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The music was blaring loud, and Azriel found himself losing count of how much drink he'd downed.

He'd been dragged to this club by Cassian who'd begged him to go out and stop being 'boring' like Rhys who had stopped partying with them ever since his Son Nyx was born last year.

And as per usual, Cassian had a tendency to rope Azriel into doing things against his will and better judgement.

Hence, Azriel found himself sitting at a bar shouting at the bartender over the incessant music to get him another drink.

Sighing, clutching his drink, he swung himself around to look for Cassian.

Unfortunately for Azriel, he was met with the sight of his best friend with a woman on each arm, his tongue down the right one's neck.

As if Cassian had been waiting for him to look, he sent Azriel a wink and yelled "Turn back around big boy." The women around him laughed and Azriel rolled his eyes but complied.

He slumped his head down on the bar silently telling himself to never agree to do anything with Cassian again, when a female voice interrupted his voice.

"Vodka diet coke please, thank you."

Azriel poked his head up to look at the woman. Her denim skirt and black leather jacket hugged her body in the perfect places.

"Are you alright?" She looked back at him as the bartender turned around and Azriel thought he was dreaming.

"Yeah, I- uh..." He replied still in a drunken daze.

The girl giggled slightly, dimples poking through her cheeks.

"Let me guess your friends roped you into coming here?" Her black eyeshadow perfect as she blinked up at the man

"Yeah, something like that." He smiled back at her "My friend, Cassian, he's that one over there."

He pointed to the booth in which Cassian and five other women now sat, one on his lap and two on either side.

The girl snorted and turned back to face Azriel.

"Looks like Cassian's having some fun." She spoke, sipping on her drink.

"Tell me about it." Azriel rolled his eyes dramatically at the girl.

"So what are you doing here Mr sit-in-the-shadows"

"As you suggested, I'm here against my will."

"Ah of course." The girl turned back to face the bar

"Well, you've told me all about Cassian, but nothing about you." She turned back to face him, looking inquisitively.

"Oh sorry, I'm Azriel," he replied.

"And how exactly did Cassian get your sorry ass here?" She looked at him with a smirk on her face, prompting him to speak more.

Azriel found himself wanting to speak more, the girl instantly putting him at ease.

"Me and Cass" he started "We're like a trio with this other guy Rhys, who Cassian and I usually go out with, but he got married and has a one-year-old son, and Cassian keeps saying he got boring or whatever So Cass has been itching to go out for ages so I guess I felt bad?" he finished looking back at the girl.

"Sorry, I never even asked your name."

She laughed.

"Y/n. My name is Y/n" she smiled at Azriel.

Y/n finished her drink and spoke once more "Do you want to go for a walk, its kind of stuffy in here, if you want to stay with Cassian its fi-"

"No, no I'm sure he'll be fine." Azriel cut in, grabbing the girl's hand and moving outside the nightclub.

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"Cigarette?" she offered, whipping a pack out of the pocket of her leather jacket.

"Yeah, sure thanks" Azriel replied looking down at her.

Y/n couldn't deny his beauty. But beautiful in a way in which Cassian was not. Where Cassian was Rugged, Azriel seemed softer. Almost Angelic, Y/n thought as she sucked on her cigarette.

"So what brought a pretty thing like you here Y/n?" Azriel prodded, taking a puff.

"I came with some friends from college, a guy and a girl, but they ended up making out and... going home." she spoke with a careless shrug.

"You're in college?" Azriel responded, to which the girl nodded.

"Astrophysics."

"Oh, so you're smart, smart." He stated smirking at her.

"Eh, I guess you could say that." She smiled back.

They walked for a few minutes more when Azriel voiced "I should probably get back and check on Cass"

"you're right, I need to get home too."

"You wanna walk back with me?" Azriel questioned silently hoping she would.

"Oh no, I literally live down this street, get back to your friend, Azriel." Y/n pointed, signalling to a row of apartment buildings.

She began walking away when she heard his voice once more " Wait, Y/n!"

"Yeah?" she turned around her hair swinging past her shoulders.

"Let me get your number"

She smiled handing him her phone to put it in.

"I really want to kiss you right now." he told her as she gave his phone back.

she giggled, the sound giving his heart wings.

Y/n leaned in as Azriel lifted his hand to her cheek attaching their lips, their tongues fighting for dominance.

As they moved away, a string of spit still connecting their puffy lips, Azriel smiled at her.

"Text me."

And that was the first of many rendezvous between the pair.

A/N: Thank you for this request! I'm not sure how many parts this will have but I'm going to incorporate the folklore love triangle and champagne problems as requested!!

[dollielliot]

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏the missions (these are excerpts from eric harris's site)͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏❀ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏

[CONTENT MISSING]

1 The first was when we put an entire assortment of very loud fireworks in a tunnel, and lit them off at about 1:00AM. This mission was part of a rebellion against these assholes that shot one of our bikes one day. They were rather angry that night, and we were very happy. We will be doing another hit on their house sometime in the near future. And that one will be much closer. And louder.

After each mission we get drunk. Not with wimpy beer, we only use hard liquor. Aftershock, Irish Cream, Tequila, Vodka, Whiskey, Rum, and sometimes a few shots of EVERCLEAR. We also sometimes make up our own shooters. And sample others (never try a prairie fire, its killer!). In our next few missions, we are planning to hit the dorks house a few more times, along with a few other houses. And also set off some more fireworks at that tunnel. We each have a large supply of fireworks...loud ones...and soon I will have my license and we can drive around any place we want to. heh heh. Soon I will be putting our directions for mixing drinks that we make up. We will put up any good shooter or other drink that we try. So check this place out often.

[CONTENT MISSING]

R....e....b....e....l....C....l....a....n

this page was written by REB

REB VoDkA KIBBz

2 Our second mission was against this complete and utter fag's house. Everyone in our school hates this immature little weakling. So we decided to "hit" his house. On Friday night (2/7/97) at about 12:15AM we arrived at this queer's house. Fully equipped with 3 eggs, 2 rolls of toilet paper, the cheap brand, no pretty flowers, (we were disappointed to) superglue, and the proper tools to make his phone box a busy box (for those of you that are stupid, a buy box is where you set their box so that when they try to make a call, they get a busy signal and when someone else calls, they get a busy signal too). We placed 2 eggs in his very large, thick bushes. We just barely cracked them open so they will be producing a rather repulsive and extremely BAD odor for sometime. We placed the last egg on his "welcome" mat. It was very neat, I cracked the egg, put the yoke in the center, and the 2 halves on either side of the yoke. Then we teepeed his large pine tree and this...oak? tree. I don't know, it's big though. It wasn't a complete teepee but it was enough to agitate the homeowner greatly. We also put the superglue on the front door and on the little red mailbox flag. 

3 This mission was an attack on the people who shot Vodka's bike, and on some random houses. First, after sneaking out of my house at around 1:55, we lit off 1 strand of 200 thunderbombs and 6 bottle rockets. We had also set a time delayed assortment too. This was made of 10 bottle rockets and a few crackling balls. We aren't really sure if those went off though because by the time they would have, we were a mile away. After the fireworks we went over to this asshole's house. His name is brooks brown {redacted by FBI and missing in files - possibly home address}. If any of you feel like pranking him. Anyway, we didn't really do much to him. Just put some model puddy on his Merc. Then, we went to another kid's house, and started to teepee his big, tall, thick, thorny-ass-tree. We set off the motion detectors about 4 times, and we dodged 1 car. But we didn't get caught! His tree was completely covered and wrapped in ass wiping paper. Even though we only had 4 rolls, we did one helluva good job. After that we moved some rather large rocks onto people's driveways and tagged RC into a fence. Then, we came home and got drunk while watching Bordello of Blood. 

4 This mission was frehkin unique. The mission was from my house (REB), through the corridor, past the graves, and to the place where we do all of our fireworks. It was supposed to be like the other missions to this place. The weather was nice, we had 4 items made up and ready for use. The first fuse didn't work. The second fuse malfunctioned also. Both of those items were just about 100-120 thunderbombs strapped together. We had one more like the first 2 and we also had a little contraption of bottle rockets. These bottle rockets were strapped together, and put into a bottle. We placed this bottle on top of a large hill. So quite a few people could see. After about the 3rd try, I decided to just light the fuses that were directly from the rockets. Usually we use loooong fuses so we have time to get away. But this time, with Vodka and Kibbz standing over in front of some bigass shrubbery. I just did the direct fuse. After lighting it I ran like a sonuvabitch to Vodka and Kibbz.

 By the time I made it to them the rockets were starting to go off. We had about 50 in the assortment, so it lasted a while. It was rather perrrty. Then we busted the bottle and went BACK to the 2 strips that didn't work. They both had rather crappy quality fuses so they went out before they reached their target. I took the last one, tied the remainder of the first 2 fuses to it, and lit it for the final f*ckin time. Since I am the fastest in the group, I usually light the fuses and Kibbz would be at the point where we stop running. Vodka would keep guard while I light. This time both of them went over and laid down on the side of this hill about 100 yards away. This would be the first time we have ever seen our own work in action. All the other times we just heard them. I lit it, ran to the hill, and watched the lovely ass fireworks go off. They lasted about 45 seconds, a total of around 400 went off. Dogs were barkin and everything. It was really cool to see em all to. 

After that we went to this point in the trails that looked like the Q from quake. We smoked some cigars, and headed home. Except...when we were a few blocks away from home, we had an incident. We were walking along the sidewalk when a f*cking garage door opened at the house that we were right by! We bolted into that person's yard...and ducked down and tried to be as quiet as possible. This adult came out, got his newspaper(it was about 4:30 in the AM) and went back in. I tried to signal Vodka and Kibbz but they didn't see me. We waited...a few minutes later the man got in his car and started down his driveway. The flood of lights from his car just covered us. He stopped, got out, and yelled "WHO ARE YOU!" we got up, said we were just passin through and stuff, and he kept sayin "GET OUT OF HERE", "ILL CALL THE COPS!" and "WHO ARE YOU." We f*ckin hauled assholes and elbows home. 

This mission was also liquor free as a result of this person named Brooks Brown {redacted by FBI and missing in files - possibly home address} who tried to narc on us. Telling my parents that I had booze and @#%$ in my room. I had to ditch every bottle I had and lie like a f*ckin salesman to my parents. All because Brooks Brown thought I put a little nik in his windshield from a snowball.......BS? yes, Anyway, that was mission 4.

5 This mission was one of the best we ever did. This was from Kibbz's house to several locations in his neighborhood. That night was probably the longest walk we ever did. First we went to this soccer field/playground. It was right on the corner of a very busy intersection. So every minute we had cars going by. There was a lot of moonlight that night, we got to the playground and dodged the lights of cars for about 20 minutes. Then we decided what our first strike would be like.

We got a big McD's cup, and went to the center field of the soccer field. We got out about 20 bottle rockets that were stripped together, and a 100 somethin strip of blackcats. Each had very good and long fuses so we had lots of time. We lit them, and ran over and got in front of these big pine trees. We were totally out of vision. The rockets went off first. They launched out over the field and then the strip went off, after that we started goin back the way we came. Which went through this trail about 35 yards wide with houses on either side. We found this large metal tub...perfect for firecrackers!!! We decided that Kibbz and Vodka would walk off toward the street on the other side of the trail and hide behind some trees while I lit it. Except...the street was over 100 yards away. And they were about 15 yards past it. Once they signaled me, I lit the small assortment of thunderbombs and about 50 stickless bottle rockets. They would only make sound, no visual effects. But anyway, I lit and sprinted the whole f*ckin way. About 3/4ths the way the fireworks went off, I was right in the middle of this bigass trail.

I never ran so fast in all the missions. But I made it to the others and watched all these lights go on from the houses. Then we walked over to this big open hill between some houses and a busy street. We got a long wooden board and placed it on the hill. We had a long strip of about 200 and a little brick of about 3 packs of thunderbombs. This time we used a cigarette fuse. We only needed about an inch of it. We lit the cigarette and went over to hide behind some trees. When it went off it was VERY loud where we were so we bolted outa there. After a few minutes we went back to see if all the stuff had gone off and it all did. So we got some souvaneers (i know misspelled) and went home. Drank some Aftershock that night too. We were supposed to have a few chicks come with us, but they couldn't make it...so maybe next time.

[CONTENT MISSING]

              6. Awwww yeya. This mission was so fuckin fun man. Ok, first of all, my dad was the only parent home so it was much easier getting out...but still hard since all these rocks in my backyard make so much noise. Plus the neighbors faulting dog barking its faulting head off. First we went through the corridor...going through some very tall grass fields...not as tall as the ones in the Lost World, but close. Felt kinda cool. Then we set up the strip of 1132 firecrackers. Using w cigarettes as starting fuses, we had plenty of time to spare. We also had a nice little crackering fountain hooked up to the fuses too. After a few minutes of setting it up, we lit it and went over and hid it on top of this big cement pipe going under a street. We were on the side of a hill so we hid in the grass. There was also a full moon that night, and not a foaming cloud in the sky. So it was like noon on the equator when we were out in the open. But, black clothing and tall grass sure helps. After about 5 minutes (forever) it began.

Beforehand we watched as some lights in the target house went on.....then off. Maybe the bastard heard something. But when the strip started, he turned his bedroom lights off. The strip lasted for about 30 seconds.....we think.....it was very fucking long. Almost all of it went off, loud and bright, everything worked exactly how we wanted it to. After about 15 minutes we started down the bike trail to the next target. The first targets lights were on again in the bedroom but we think we got away undetected. While we were walking to the next target we shot some stuff. Heh, VoDkA brought his sawed off BB gun and a few BBs too. So we loaded it, pumped it, and fired a few shots at some houses and trees and stuff. We probably didn't do any damage to any houses, but we aren't sure. The gun was not loud at all, which is very good. At the next target, we set up the saturn missile battery and the rockets. These both had fuses about 2-3 feet long. I lit them as VoDka and KiBBs were hiding in the shadows. 

Luckily there were some trees and stuff at the 2nd target so we could hide pretty good. Anyway, I lit and went over to the others. We watched as the fuses burned and burned...then the rockets went off. It was pretty nice, not so much meant as a prank, but more as a nice little fireworks show. They made some noise, but nothing to shit yer pants about. But the battery didn't work. So I went back, checked it out, and the fuse had burned down to about 2 inches. So I just said up yours baby nad lit it. Right as I made it back to the others it went off. It was pretty quick, and loud too. Since the missiles are whistlers, they probably woke up a few residents. YEY. Then we started heading to this construction site. It’s right on the side of a kind of busy road, but before the houses. We dodged a few cars, messed around at the site and we also swiped some signs from this fence that was put up around the soon-to-be-foundation of whatever is being built. The signs read "RENT-A-FENCE" and had some 1 800 number on them. So we got some very nice souvoneers (spelled close enuf) from that place.

Then, as KIBBz and VoDkA were down in the foundation hole and I was up on top, a cop drove by. We had enough time to see it, take cover, and watch it go by, so it didn't get us by surprise. But once we saw it was a cop we decided it was time to farming LEAVE. He didn't stop, he drove right by, but @#%$ he mighta been looking for us. So we got out of the fence, grabbed our signs and went to the neighborhood again. We didn't have that much trouble getting back home, just some dogs and @#%$. Once we got in, we were tired as a priest after a 5 hour orgy. The total mission took about 3 hours. We left around 12:30 and got back around 3-3:30. We are not very sure but it lasted a while. And damit, it was well worth it. We needed that mission too, we were all pretty tired of waiting and our nerves were just about shot. So it was perdy relaxing to be free like that.

[CONTENT MISSING]

{mission unnumbered} [CONTENT MISSING]

NEXT MISSION=aaaan whenever

Ok people, I’m gonna let you in on the big secret of our clan. We aint no god damn stupid ass quake clan! We are more of a gang. We plan out and execute missions. Anyone pisses us off, we do a little deed to their house. Eggs, teepee, superglue, busyboxes, large amounts of fireworks, you name it and we will probably or already have done it. We have many enemies in our school, therefore we make many missions. It’s sort of a night time tradition for us. 

It’s a very close replica of the missions sites. But we have never seen the inside of the house…so we just guessed. It’s also cut off where the area isn't important (ya know I didn't want to put in all of the neighborhood!).  

The mission has been done. And the rebels…once again… emerged victorious. Vee falking blew de sheeeit outta lossa stoof!!

As for the next mission, we haven't decided what to do or where to do it. I had some thoughts about hiding in some large bushes and shooting stuff. Or maybe some more aerial attacks. But we need to go up to Wyoming and load up on that stuff. We are running low. Plus we just got our paychecks….they aren't big…but they can cover quite a bit of shit. We still need to get the fuses too. So far, the next mission will probly be in July sometime. But we AINT SURE. 

[CONTENT MISSING]

[skullhorn59]

Clouded Sensations

A/N: my first Hazbin Hotel Fanfic! this is going to be multi chaptered! and definitely smut >:), but this part is more a small sneak peak into what I'm planning rather than an actual chapter. if you wanna request anything, go for it! Tags are going to get added progressively!

Pairings: Valentino x Fem!Reader Legend: ❲☆❳ - flashback, 『♡』 = change of scenes Warnings/Promises: Valentino, Manipulation, Drugs (his smoke/saliva), flirting, alcohol, smoking

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Minors DNI 🚨🚔

Valentino is sitting comfortably on the leather seat in the booth of one of his many clubs throughout Hell. beside him are two demons, employees of his, Dia and Summer. the two girls sit on the pimps lap as he takes a long drap of his cigarette and blows out it's red smoke. the other two Vee's are sitting in the same booth, but don't pay very much attention.

You are at the bar, just another demon trying to make a living, without being put too much into the spotlight. you never wanted to be noticed by the Vee's, at least not more than necessary. yeah - just trying to survive. from time to time, you get out from the bar to bring out drinks to guests, giving them a friendly smile if they give you a tip.

as you're ordered to bring another round of drinks to the Vee's booth, you can't shake the feeling of being watched. you pick up the tray of glasses before you make your way over, already so self-conscious about yourself that you walk very stiff. you have never been the type of demon for revealing clothes, not even as you were alive. everything you own covered you good, and you always wear black, helping you blend in better - or so you thought.

as you put the glasses down, Vox regards you with a glance, and Velvette ignores you completely. relieved, you turn to leave, but then you notice the Moth Demons grin. it looks almost predatory.

you turn to leave, but your wrist is quickly grabbed by one of his hands, his skin is cool to the touch. he nearly purrs as he begins speaking. "Why don't you stay and join us, Cariño?"

you feel your face heat up, and you try to keep your voice from shaking as you answer the Overlord.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I have work to do. and besides, I'm not very fond of shar-.." your voice breaks, and you have to clear your throat before finishing your sentence, "... sharing."

you free your wrist from his grip, and hastily hurry away, into the safety of the bar. Fuck! you denied THE Valentino! for as much as you knew about him, he killed sinners for less! before panic could settle in, you take a deep breath and continue your work, trying to avoid any gazes towards the booth.

but Valentino wasn't going to give up this easily. he watches you from across the room, his eyes tracing your every movement. after a while, he stands up and with a flick of one of his wrists, gestures the two female demons to leave. he then saunters over to the bar, leaning against it casually. "Whats your poison?", he asks with a charming grin, letting his eyes roam over the array of bottles behind the counter.

as you look up from the glass you were cleaning, you freeze for a moment. no way he came here for you, right? ... Right??? you keep yourself calm and pretend not to give a single care in the world as you lower your gaze back to the glass, keeping your movements steady and casual, your voice calm as you respond.

"I'm a lightweight. a few glasses of a good Vodka Cola mix, and I'm done for. although," you tilt your head, lost in thought for a moment, your heart pounding against your chest in both fear and unwanted desire, "I've never had any hangovers. not even as I was alive. and I never have memory loss either. it's kinda cool." oh God, you have to stop telling so many details!! you're practically serving him your weaknesses on a silver platter!

The Moth Demon regards you a toothy smirk, his gold tooth reflecting the light off of it. "you have good taste, Cariño. I'll invite you on a couple of glasses.~", his voice is practically dripping with venomous honey.

you raise an eyebrow at him, but begin preparing two glasses with the mix. "you know, I'm still working my shift, so I'm not too keen on getting drunk just now." - "I know Conchita, don't worry your pretty little head about it.~" he leans forward on his elbows, his lower pair of arms resting on his hips as he grabs the glass you just finished pouring. the Overlord downs it in one gulp, before setting the glass down. as he notices your stare, he licks his lips seductively.

wait, is Valentino flirting with you?? Holy fuck. this is suuuuch a dangerous game you're playing. if you make a mistake, you're as good as dead. but at this point, you can't just stop. rather drunk at work than dead, right?...

"Right.", you say out loud, raising your own glass to your lips. you notice how his gaze lingers on you, he practically undresses you with his eyes alone. you catch yourself staring at his eyes with half lidded eyes, slowly downing your own glasses contents. May Lucifer help you, you're a lost cause...

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this snipped, leave a comment if you wanna be added to the taglist, and I'll add you right away!~ and hey, if you got any suggestions/ideas, please do tell! I'm all ears! :)

─❲♡❳▷Hazbin Masterlist ─❲♡❳▷Main List

[munsonsreputation]

HITS DIFFERENT ('CAUSE IT'S YOU)

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [7.6K]

warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, exes to lovers, cursing (plenty), angsty, mentions of alcohol and reader throwing up, reader and steve arguing (just a bit), angst mixed in with humor (my personal fave), reader crying (she does a lot), mis communication, uses of a home phone and answering machine, stupid idiots confessing their love &lt;3

summary: you never would have thought that steve harrington could ever break your heart...after all, he was all that you wanted. however, after a sudden breakup you find yourself struggling to move on from him. moving on was always easy for you to do, but you just don't understand why you can't get over steve. after a night out with nancy and robin you question if love really is a thing or if it's just a complete lie.

Two weeks.

Fourteen days.

The most grueling three hundred and sixty-six hours of your life, and here you were sat at the bar with your best friends on either side of you. The two of them buying you drinks and talking shit about your ex-boyfriend to try to make you feel a little better.

But in all fairness, it’s the best you felt in those two weeks, so you’d take a night full of shots and half-drunk euphoria over one full of tears and sadness in bed.

“Another round?” The bartender glided over with a smile on his unshaven face as he compiled the shot glasses on a plate.

You swung your head, cringing as you bit down on the lime slice to chase the vodka burning your throat. The three of you were on a roll, drinking ever since you entered the club without a care for stopping.

Nancy hiccuped in, looking between you and Robin, knowing you should cool it on the drinking, “M-maybe some water?” she requested as the two of you nodded in agreement.

He laughed freely at all three of you girls’ halt on shots. “Coming right up,” he spun around, grabbing a few waters and clean glasses.

Robin turned her eyes towards you, her fist lazily reinforcing her head as she could feel the alcohol slowing hitting her, “Are ya having fun?”

“Hmmm…” You pretended to think for a moment before putting on your best smile, “’course I am, you know I always have fun with you two.”

Robin and Nancy shot a concerning look at each other while you were distracted by the water pushed towards you, downing the glass.

They knew things weren’t easy for you, at least right now. They had spent the last few days trying to convince you to go out and try to have fun in hopes of helping you get over the untimely breakup. After spending the first week locked up in your apartment, wallowing, they had tried to get you to come out and get some much needed girl’s time.

And for a minute they thought that they had cracked you, getting you to tag along at the beach, but unfortunately the experience just made you feel worse about yourself. Seeing too many happy couples splashing in the water or writing each other’s initials in the sand around a big heart—you were totally broken hearted.

Nancy and Robin had to practically drag you back to your apartment, a sobbing mess. What they didn’t know was that the last date that you and Steve went on was to that exact beach. Memories of you and him running barefoot across the sand and splashing each other with the salty ocean water.

Thankfully, you had gotten your shit together, or at least tried to for tonight. You were grateful to have friends who were so committed to making sure you were ok in times like these. But they could also see through the facade. You hadn’t mentioned his name all night. The first in the last couple of days where all you could think and talk about was him.

“I know, but you can also talk to us about anything you’re feeling,” Nancy started, her hands coming up to warmly caress your shoulder, “We’re always gonna be here for you.”

You inhaled, eyes glittering with a sheen of salty liquid and a genuine smile creeping onto your face as you threw your arms around her neck and pulled her into a hug. You could hear the muffled laughter of Robin’s voice behind you through the music, feeling her wrap her arms around the two of you and join in on the hug.

“I love you guys.” You murmured, feeling their smile and giggle on your skin, reciting it back to you before they stretched away.

Again, the bartender stood behind the bar, arms crisscrossed over his rib cage as he rose his brows towards you, “So what did he do? Cheat or ghost you?”

Your eyes squinted at him, evidently taken aback by his intrusion as you set your glass down, “W-what?”

He snickered inwardly, leaning closer to the bar, nearly face to face with you before you scooched back, “No group of girls just comes to a club on a Friday night crying for no reason, y’know?”

The bartender tried to be silly, laughing at himself and towards you and your friends like you’d even give him a giggle. Instead, you wanted to reach over the table and give him a piece of your mind. That yeah, maybe you were here sitting at a bar crying over Steve Harrington, but Steve would never cheat or ghost you.

Never.

But before you could even begin explaining that to him, Nancy cut in. Both of her palms resting on the surface as she pushed herself forward, face to face with the man, staring him down and watching him cower.

“Look it’s none of your business. We’re here to have a good time, not to explain ourselves to an eavesdropper.” Her voice spiked with firmness, standing her ground while the bartender smirked, holding his hands up in defense, and backed away.

You felt a squeeze on your shoulder coming from Robin who gave you an encouraging smile, but you could tell that beneath that she was worried for you. Most times you wouldn’t hesitate to put someone like him in his place for being so invasive, but these days it just felt like you didn’t have the energy for anything, let alone picking fights with strangers.

Nancy settled back comfortably into her chair and you mouthed a “thank you” towards her, and all she did was shake her head and give you those comforting eyes that let you know that she would’ve done it either way for you.

You didn’t want to feel like you needed to defend yourself, but part of you wished that you didn’t have to be here in the first place. That if Steve didn’t break your heart, you’d just be with him and the rest of your friends back at your apartment watching a shit-load of movies until you fell asleep.

But instead you were here, moping and trying to numb away your pain with drinks, like a goddamn rom-com. Except your prince charming wasn’t going to waltz in any minute and beg for your forgiveness.

You wished you could’ve just spent your night forgetting this interaction with that stupid bartender even happened, but as swiftly as the privacy came, it died once again with him invading your personal bubble.

A tray of freshly poured shots slid its way towards you, along with the cough of the man who gained your attention. “The shots are on the house and it’s my bad…I didn’t mean to make you girls angry.”

You took a deep breath, shoulders dropping heavily, only reaching for a glass and toasting it up to him, “It’s whatever…no hard feelings, dude.”

With that you chugged the alcohol, not bothering to even chase it with lime or salt, like you had been doing all night. Nancy and Robin did the same, mumbling a “thank you” to the man and taking their own shot.

He should’ve left it at that, but of course just like any other man, they always had to go and ruin it.

“Buuut…” his tone condescending with just that one word alone, “love is a complete and utter lie anyway so try not to think so hard about it.”

His lips twisted up in a smirk as if he had just played you, but you were really just not having any of it anymore. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol beginning to really kick in and give you an edge or if you were really just ticked off, but you didn’t think twice before reaching for Nancy’s half-full cup of water and chucking the rest of it at the man.

“You’re such an asshole!” You slurred noisily followed by the gasps of the other bystanders who watched it unfold.

“Oh, my god!” Robin shrieked, clamping a hand over her mouth as she watched the man completely lose his shit over some water.

It all happened so fast, and you really were about to go across the bar and throw every single drink at this man just so you could release all this pent up sadness and frustration, but something stopped you. That familiar tune beginning to play over the speakers. That song that was Steve’s favorite blaring in your ears and it just made you want to cry.

You never would have thought you’d ever throw a drink into any person’s face. Never ever. Sure, you’d fantasize about it, and wish you could to ever rude person you met.

But you never did…not until tonight.

You don’t know what overcame you, but it all just felt so wrong.

Nancy quickly helped you up out of the barstool, while Robin exhanged a few curse words and thrown middle fingers at the man before following you two outside of the club before you would have been escorted out by security.

You couldn’t control the sobs that were leaving your mouth and tears slipping down your cheeks. This isn’t what you wanted at all, and this wasn’t how the night was supposed to play out.

You had it all planned out in your head.

You three would just spend the night drinking your worries away and dancing to overplayed club music until your feet hurt and you would have to hail a cab barefoot down the street.

But of course, nothing was ever how it was supposed to be.

“Here, let’s sit,” Nancy suggested, wandering a few blocks away from the place and helping you sit down on the curb.

“Oh honey,” Robin murmured, coming to the other side of you and wrapping her arms across your shoulders, “Don’t listen to that prick. He has no idea what he’s talking about!”

Nancy ran her palms up and down your arms, trying to warm you up from the chilly night air, “Mhm! He’s probably just angry because he’s never been in love before.”

With your breath uneasy, you lifted your face from your hands, revealing the mascara smeared cheeks where the salty tears continued to pour.

“Love isn’t a lie! It can’t be…”

You looked at them in disbelief like this breakup was so catastrophic…because it was and it was painting you blue. The kind of messy and discolored shades of every blue fusing together and turning your soul into grey goop.

You were a mess.

Nance gulped, not really sure of what to say because your emotions had never got this bad. Back in the first week of the breakup, she and Robin would hold you while you cried and told them how lonely you were, but this was something different.

“A—and no one is saying it’s a lie! Love isn’t a lie, hun.” She told you, stroking your hair back from where it was sticking to your wet cheeks.

You couldn’t help collapsing into Nancy’s lap, hiding your face and hands on top of her where you wept violently. She felt the strings tugging on her heart, watching you break down, rubbing circles on your back to try to get you to calm down.

Her eyes narrowing towards Robin and mouthing, “say something to make her feel better!”

Robin wasn’t so good with these emotions, either. Smacking her hand on top of her forehead and opening her mouth to try to form words, but she struggled a bit, but not before Nancy smacked her leg lightly, begging her to say something quick.

“Y-you know…ummm love isn’t a complete lie…it’s just that ummm, you know sometimes things just don’t work out, but when you meet someone and it feels right, you just know…you know that it’s love.”

You rocked your head in your hands, your heart being pulled in a million different directions, yet still falling apart because you knew that you only ever had that feeling with Steve. He was the person who felt right. And you feared that it was always going to be him.

Nancy and Robin continued rubbing reassuring circles on your back, and you even felt the warmth of a Robin’s jacket being draped across body. There was no good reason as to why your two best friends should be doing this right now. And you probably wouldn’t have blamed them if they had just left you here to fend for yourself because you were a total mess and you really felt like your sadness was contagious—infecting them and ruining their night.

They had their own significant others, Jonathan and Vicky, who probably would have given them a better night than tonight. At least, they had people coming home to them, probably thinking about what they were up to, maybe something fun and looking forward to receiving one of those drunk calls asking them to come and pick them up. But no, they were here, already sobered up and comforting their heartbroken wreck of a friend.

“B-but what if it’s really a lie?” You hiccuped quietly, withdrawing your head from Nancy’s lap, and struggling to swipe away at the never ending puddle of tears.

Robin adjusted her jacket over your shoulders, hugging you firmly and Nance doing the same on the opposite side.

“Don’t think like that, babe…you know you’re a total romantic.” Robin replied

You sniffled, glancing over at her with a crushed presence, “I don’t know a-anymore, maybe love just isn’t meant for me,”

“No, no, no, don’t say that.” Nancy scolds gently, moving to hold on to your hand where you take a shaky breath and look up at the sky.

You wished that there was a shooting star, just so you could make a wish and rewind time. You were so pathetically drunk yet sober off your ass and feelings right now.

“It’s true! Maybe Steve will find a new girlfriend who will give him the world and take my place and love him the way that I—”

You swallowed thickly, not even wanting to finish that sentence because it made you so sick. Your senses were just filled with all things Steve and even when you closed your eyes to try to forget about it, all you could visualize was Steve laughing and kissing another girl who wasn’t you.

It was your deepest fears coming true in the bounds of your imagination, yet maybe it was true. Maybe Steve already found someone else who was better than you, the girl who you could never be. Maybe he was already moved on, meanwhile you were letting him make a mess and a fool out of you.

It made you sick.

The lump in your larynx rose despite your attempts to swallow it, and out of nowhere your hands forced outwards, shoving Robin and Nancy away, while you jerked forward and threw up on the street.

“Oh, Jesus.” Nancy sighed, hastily rising up and backing away to give you a minute.

Meanwhile, Robin clenched one hand over her mouth, while the other gathered your hair and held it back for you.

“Yup, just let it all out.” She mumbled, grimacing as you continued to do so.

Nance searched around, catching a payphone a short walk away, “I’m gonna call her a ride and try to find her some water.”

“Be quick, please.” Robin hailed out before she jogged off to the payphone.

She really didn’t know who to call, and for a second she contemplated Steve, but after everything that had happened tonight, she didn’t want to put you in a situation that you quite literally weren’t ready for.

Jonathan would have been an option, but she knew her boyfriend and at this hour he was probably dead asleep and would not wake up.

Then there was Vicky, which would have been a great option, however she still didn’t have her license and the last thing they needed was for her to get pulled over for not having one.

So she dialed the numbers, hoping that the person would be up and willing to come into town to pick you up.

“C’mon, c’mon, please, pick up.” She tapped her foot impatiently and the phone continued to ring, for a moment she was about to lose all her hope and hang up.

But thankfully, he picked up, “Munson residence, what can I do for you at this hour?”

Nance could practically feel the smirk on his face once he answer, “Eddie, you need to get your ass down here before she quiet literally drops down drunk on the side of the road.”

There was a heavy sigh before she heard some shuffling in the background, “I’ll be right there.”

How Nancy got a bottle of water from the same bartender that you threw a glass of water at was kinda funny, but nevertheless you were thankful. You were half drunk, drowsy, propping your head on Robin’s shoulder while Nance occasionally prompted you to drink some more water, trying to get you to sober up quickly. But what you really needed was an aspirin and your bed.

Thankfully, after what felt like the longest twenty minutes of your life, you could hear the sighs of reliefs coming from Robin and Nancy as they followed the white van coming closer down the street.

“C’mon, hun, time to get up,” Robin declared, wrapping one of your arms across her shoulder and Nancy did the same, trying to get you up on your feet without you flopping down.

“What the fuck!” Eddie hollered out the passenger window, hitting the brakes and placing the van in park before getting out.

You heard him, more than saw him, due to the fact that you were still buzzed, but could barely raise your head to meet his eyes. Instead, just seeing a distorted view of his converse that he always wore.

“Now’s not the time for a tangent, Edward—fuck!” Nancy winced, struggling to keep you up.

“Jesus Christ, just give her to me,” Eddie sputtered, drawing your full weight and essentially lugging you to the passenger side of the van where Robin opened the door wide.

He turned to the two girls, looking at them seriously, “Before she goes in, did she already throw up?”

Nancy nodded, pointing to the side of the road where your barf still stayed in a pile that made everyone want to gag, “Like everything in her system.”

“Okay, I’ll get her home safe and make sure she calls you before she heads to bed,” He told them and they nodded, watching Eddie gingerly place you in the passenger seat and buckle you in.

“Feel better, babe, we’ll talk to you in a bit.” Nancy exhaled, giving your thigh a pat while Robin opted for a kiss on the forehead before shutting your door quietly.

You could only barely hear the conversation that the two girls and Eddie were having outside. Their voices a subdued murmur, not wanting to disturb your journey to sleep, but also not wanting you to hear them explain the situation that had happened that lead up to this. But you really paid them no mind, just resting your head back against the cushion and listening to the low music that played.

It was only a few more minutes before Eddie finally got into the driver’s seat, glancing over at you. “Ready to go?”

“Hmmm.” You uttered, keeping your eyes tight and feeling the van begin to move.

You weren’t really sure where things stood between you and Eddie, considering the fact that he was closer to Steve and even let him crash at his trailer after you two had broken up and you kept the apartment. You weren’t even sure if Eddie liked you all that much. After all this time dating Steve, he was one of the friends that was hard to read.

Sometimes he’d be super friendly and other times he’d be a little closed off. It just depended on the day, but you had a feeling that you were the last person that Eddie wanted to see tonight.

“I’m sorry for making you drive all the way down here for me…I-I should’ve just told them to call me a cab—”

He grunted, swaying his head and peeping over at you shortly, “And what if that cab driver was a creep? Just—just consider it a favor and let it be done.”

“D-do you hate me or something?” You opened your eyes, looking at him blankly.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you dated my best friend since like forever…I can’t hate you.” He chuckled to himself, but still you didn’t seem convinced.

“But we’re broken up now, so technically you can hate me.” You responded, pushing yourself to sit up rather than slouch.

He looked over at you, perhaps thinking you were about to yack again, but you just looked at him, waiting for a response.

“Look,” He sighed heavily, “You made Steve really happy, the happiest I’ve ever fuckin’ seen him in our whole friendship. There isn’t a goddamn reason for me to hate you for doing that. If anything, I owe you because him being that happy made him a better friend, alright. So stop thinking that I hate you, because I don’t.”

You were a little shocked to be honest, because Eddie never really got deep when it came to you. So maybe Eddie really didn’t hate you. That at least made you feel a little better.

When you didn’t respond, Eddie spoke again, hoping that you would at least say something for the rest of the drive.

“You know, Steve isn’t doing so well, either. He’s still crashing at my place and when I got the call from Nance tonight, I contemplated telling him it was about you, but…I don’t think right now either of you are ready to talk at three in the morning.” He snickered, smiling a bit when he saw you scorn jokingly and brush back your hair.

“And so, what did you tell him?” You marveled out loud, turning your eyes to the road, “That you had to deliver some weed?”

“Maybe, something like that.” He shrugged feeling so predicable.

Eddie honestly didn’t know what to make of this whole situation. A part of him feeling a little bad for not telling his best friend that his ex-girlfriend was totally wasted and needed a way home. But he also understood that you were really vulnerable right now and to tell Steve would blow the whole situation out of proportion and probably would’ve made everything between the two of you even worse.

If there was any hope for reconsolidation, it would be best for the two of you two meet when you weren’t wasted and the other worried out of their mind about your wellbeing.

The drive to your apartment wasn’t long or as awkward as you thought it was going to be. It was actually quite comfortable. Eddie made jokes every once in a while when you got too quiet, wondering if you were about to throw up and that he would never forgive you if you threw up in his van.

“Home sweet home.” Eddie announced, guiding you into your place and shutting the door behind you.

You flickered the lights on, cursing at the sudden brightness that only made your head hurt even more than it already was. Eddie looked around that the space and a lot of the areas were bare after Steve had packed up his things with him. It wasn’t a complete mess, but there were boxes of tissues scattered around the coffee table and kitchen area. And there seemed to be more wine bottles behind the kitchen—your way of coping.

“I’m gonna get out of these clothes. Just grab anything you want to eat or drink if you’re hungry.” You waved off, stumbling towards your bedroom to grab a fresh pair of clothes to change into.

Again, with your energy so depleted you just didn’t have it in you to take the time to shower, so instead you opted for a makeup wipe, brushing your teeth, and changing into sweats.

“Here she is.” Eddie spoke with a half full mouth of cereal, passing the phone to you once you came back out to the living room.

You rubbed at your eyes, yawning loudly, as you placed the phone beside your ear, “H-hello?”

“Hey hun, you feeling a little better?” It was Robin on the other line.

“Just a little, gonna take an aspirin and head to bed…and look, I’m sorry for—”

“Nope!” She cut you off quickly, “don’t apologize, sometimes it happens, but I’m just glad that we were there to make sure you got home safe.”

You nodded, drawing a deep breath, “Yeah, thanks for that too.”

Robin could sense the tiredness in your voice and knew it was time you head to bed.

“Get some rest and I’ll call you tomorrow ok? I love you, sugar!”

You laughed faintly at the kissy noises she made, “Love you too, Robs.”

When you hung up the phone, your eyes followed the ruckus taking place in the storage closet beside the kitchen. You got up, seeing as though Eddie has pulled from the bottom layer of your paper towel tower and caused a few to come plummeting down.

“Sorry, you were all out of some in the kitchen.” Eddie apologized while you bent down, helping him pick up a few rolls and stack them back up.

But something peeking out behind the stack caught your eyes, a dark blue piece of fabric that had been wedged behind it. You rose your brows, tugging at the garment until it came out into view and just like that you wanted to cry all over again.

It was the stupid blue bucket hat that Steve had been wearing on your last date at the beach.

You couldn’t remember why it was there to begin with, but it was just like another memory of him seeping back into your life. You had thought that he packed away everything, all his clothes, his little trinkets—leaving no trace of himself behind, yet this stupid hat was still here.

“A-are you ok?” Eddie asked slowly, watching your eyes being to water, and you went stoic.

You sniffled, shaking your head, and rolling your eyes at yourself for being so dramatic. “It’s the hat that Steve wore on our last date.”

“Oh…umm, I’m sorry.” He said, cursing at himself for being so clumsy and causing you to find it.

You shook your head, lips sealed closely as you tried to breathe through your tears, “No, it’s fine, I just thought he took everything with him and now it’s just like, right in my face and it sucks.”

“I-I can give it back to him if you want?” Eddie offered, holding his hands out ready for you to want it as far away as possible, but you didn’t hand it over.

Instead, you wiped away your tears, shaking your head again while you examined it, “I’ll keep it…you know, for memory and whatnot.”

He didn’t question for how weird that must sound, but instead reached forward and wrapped his arms around you, giving you a hug. One that he knew you probably needed. The one that he rarely gave you when you two were friends. If this breakup was hard for Steve, it was even harder for you, and just by the looks of it, he could tell that was true.

“You rest up and feel better tomorrow, alright?” He said, pulling away from the hug and looking at you through your teary eyes.

Your lip quivered, trying to control the sobbing from happening because you knew Eddie couldn’t be of comfort like Nancy and Robin. He told you goodnight, before giving you one last hug and letting himself out. It felt lonelier than usual, locking up the place and heading to your bedroom where you couldn’t even find it in yourself to sleep on Steve’s side of the bed.

You always stayed on your side, wishing that he was there to fill that empty space. To just hold you tight and tell you that everything was going to be fine.

And so maybe his side of the bed was still empty, but you still had a small piece of him there with you. With that, you clutched that stupid hat close to your chest while you faced towards his side of the bed. Tears still slipping and being soaked up by your blankets as you cried yourself to sleep.

Sleep seemed to be the only place where you’d find an ounce of peace, but only for a little, because as soon as a dream would begin, it would only end in a nightmare that woke you up. It was no different, except for the fact that this time you dreamed of that beach, the one where you and Steve walked hand in hand, telling each other anything.

It felt so real, seeing him there and feeling his hand against yours. His laughter was still contagious, just as much as his smile was. Then, like that…he just disappeared, like he had been swept away in the current.

You were left on that beach all alone, feeling the warmth of the sun piercing through your skin like a death by a thousand cuts and the sand beneath your feet burning you with each lonely step you took.

“Fuck,”

Groaning, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Hair disheveled, eyes swollen with bags under them, and you totally looking like you just had the life sucked out of you from the night before. You knew that it wasn’t acceptable even if you were so heartbroken. You spat out the mouthwash and immediately got into the hot shower, trying to scrub off any memories of last night and let it go down the drain.

You pulled on some fresh clothes, hoping that a little bit of self-care would make you feel better and tackle on the rest of the day, despite you waking up at nearly noon, but the effort was what mattered.

Walking into the living room, you passed the home phone, noticing the alarming amount of red numbers flashing, indicating you had some messages that Robin and Nancy probably left after calling you all morning. And you were right, more than half were from Robin and Nancy, calling and checking in, telling you to call them as soon as you got the message, and if you didn’t that they’d be stopping by to check on you.

You pressed play on the next message, already assuming it was one of them, but it wasn’t.

“Hey, sorry, I know you’re probably still asleep and you have a massive hangover, but I might have accidentally told Steve about what happened last night and now he’s—”

“Fuck!”

Your eyes enlarged at Eddie’s message and you immediately picked up the phone, dialing his number and hoping you could get him to retract that statement he passed on to Steve because you really didn’t want him to know you were crying over him last night.

One. Two. Thee. Four. Five rings and still he didn’t pick up.

He was probably telling Steve everything about last night and how reckless you were. Throwing a drink in a stranger’s face? Throwing up on the side of the road? Being so wasted you couldn’t even lift yourself off the ground? And for godsake, sobbing over that stupid hat?

You were totally done for.

Sitting on the couch with your face in your hands, you were in disbelief.

How could Eddie just go and spill about what had happened?

You thought he was your friend?

Maybe that was just all a part of his plan?

What if Eddie only accepted giving you a ride home so he could tell Steve about how you were handling the breakup, only for him to make fun of you for how stupid you’ve been acting?

“God, I am such an idiot!” You shouted at yourself, shaking your head in your hands, before hearing the familiar key turn in the door.

It was obvious Nancy or Robin with their spare key you gave them. It had been hours since they left the message and they were here to check on you. Thank god they were because you felt like you were going insane and you didn’t know if you could do it alone.

The high-pitched squeak that came from the knob turning prepared you for your friends who would probably bombard you with questions before you got to tell them anything. You were ready for it, hearing their shouts of, “why didn’t you call?” or “we were worried sick!” but you didn’t hear that.

Instead, you heard the familiar footsteps of the person you could never mistake. He always had a way of walking, especially when he tried to tiptoe because he didn’t want to wake you up. The floorboards creaked a little, and you heard a hiss and then you turned your head.

It was Steve.

You stood up, hands glued to your side where you stared at him, not knowing what to say or how to feel. He looked like he felt the same, standing there and looking around in order to avoid the prolonged eye contact you knew he couldn’t hold.

“What are you doing here?”

You tightened your lips, staying still with your arms crossing behind your back. You pinched and pulled at your fingers trying to get yourself to stabilize your heartbeat that felt like it was pounding out your chest.

Steve stuttered for a bit, really contemplating if he should have knocked instead of using his key, but he was worried out of his mind and thought that you were passed out in the bathroom choking on your own vomit. But obviously he was wrong and now he looked like a total creep, breaking into his ex-girlfriend’s apartment.

You rocked your head at him somewhat, prompting a response that came faster than he could formulate the words in his head.

“I, uhh, I didn’t mean to break in but, Eddie told me what happened—” He paused, squinting his eyes at himself, as he backtracked, “well, actually he didn’t really tell me, I forced him to tell me or else I would have flushed the rest of his stash because I knew he was lying.”

This son of a bitch.

Steve shook his head, cursing at himself for getting carried away, “Anyway…he told me, and I just wanted to come here and check on you because you never really get wasted like that, and I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Your jaw clenched in a way to try to block the tears from sliding, because if you didn’t have the strength it in you, you would’ve sunk down onto the floor, breaking down and telling him that you were in fact not fine at all.

“I’m fine…can we just pretend like this didn’t happen?” You spoke under your breath, stepping away and trying to pick up random things lying around in order to avoid looking at him any longer.

He sighed, kicking off his shoes, and faltered behind you. “Why are you being like this?”

You rolled your eyes, brushing past him and throwing away the stray wrappers into the trash bin, “Like what?” you countered, still not meeting his views.

“Avoidant and stuff. You just keep acting like you want nothing to do with me.” He huffed, bending down to meet your stance.

Now that ticked you off and made you snap your head back towards him, eyes shooting daggers at his boldness.

“If I remember correctly, you’re the one who wanted nothing to do with me and packed up your things and left.” Your voice dripping with a mix of resentment and hurt as you brushed past him harshly and made your way back into the living room.

His mouth opened in an “o” not knowing how to respond to that, because he really did do what you said, but it wasn’t what he meant.

“J-just let me explain myself alright, I swear that was the last thing I wanted to do—”

You let out a sarcastic laugh, biting your tongue. “Yeah, sure, I guess everyone just breaks up with their significant other for no reason.”

He threw himself down onto the couch, tugging at his hair, “There was a reason, alright! I was scared…terrified that you wanted more in life but didn’t know how to tell me and I was just holding you back.”

That was the first time you had ever heard this explanation. For the past two weeks, the only thing that kept replaying in your mind was Steve sitting you down in this very living room and telling you he wasn’t sure if it was working out anymore and wanted you to venture out into the world. That was it. No other deeper explanation or closure, just those words, and the scene of you frozen on the couch with tears in your eyes as you watched him pack and leave.

Right now, you were frozen in front of him, standing with your arms crossed and tapping your foot against the wooden floors, not knowing what to say.

He was the one who spoke, letting up on his hair and resting his hands on his knees instead, “And, you know, I’m not doing too well either, I still think of you and worry about what you’re doing and if you’re—”

You turned your nose up, voicing cracking as you cut him off, “And all I do is cry every day and I don’t understand why…why I can’t just pick up the pieces that you left here and move on.”

Steve knew you like the back of his hand, and that familiar croak in your throat let him know that you were only seconds away from crying, but still he didn’t stop you. He knew that there was so much that you needed to say and after the way that he had left, it was only right he sat here and listen to you.

“It’s…it’s like I’m just waiting for a bus that never comes—”

He furrowed his brows, “Are you using metaphors right now?”

You looked at him in disbelief, sighing as you threw your hands out in the air and nodded, “Jesus Steve, yes, I am, ok! I’m using fucking metaphors because I’m trying to tell you that I’m still in love with you and I don’t know if I’ll ever stop.”

He followed you, pacing the space in front of him, back and forth, with your fingers running through your hair as you spilled your guts out to him.

“I don’t get why I’m like this and I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why can’t I just accept the fact that you broke up with me and move on with my life? And the funny thing is, I should be able to! I should be able to just rip the bandaid off and act like an asshole and pretend you and I never existed!” You turned to him, swallowing thickly as you laughed to yourself, hating the situation you were in right now, but you never stopped talking.

Then you looked up at the ceiling, tugging at your own roots as you continued.

“I mean, for fuck’s sake, in the 8th grade Ben Pritchett broke up with me right before winter formal and I thought that it was going to be the end of the world because I thought he was the love of my life. I thought that I was going to spend the rest of 8th grade miserable and crying my eyes out over him, but I didn’t!”

You looked at him with a hopeless smile and you could see a glint of his own, wanting to laugh at how ridiculous you sounded for comparing him to your 8th grade boyfriend.

“I moved on with my life! Just like that!” You snapped your fingers and watched him blink a bit, “But with you,” your fingers pointed and you stared at him unsure, you shrugged your shoulders, “with you I just can’t…”

The waterworks began, and you finally didn’t care about staring at him for so long. If you could, you would jump into the ocean of his eyes because of how they made you feel. That even if you were standing here ranting to him about unnecessary shit, his eyes still brought you that sense of relief that you had been dying to feel for the last two weeks.

Steve moved forward gradually, taking your hands and holding them, rubbing circles on the tops of your skin, while you closed your eyes and bit back a sob. You let him keep his hands on yours, not daring to back away or drop him because you didn’t know if this was going to be the last time, and if it was you wanted to make the moment last as long as possible.

“I—I see you everywhere…every corner of this apartment, in all the faces I see—I see you. Everything leads back to you for some reason. All of these fucking questions that I’ve been asking myself. Why can’t I get over Steve? Why is this heartbreak hitting me differently than the one I experienced when I was thirteen?”

You squeezed on his hands, opening your teary eyes to see him through the film of salt, “Because it’s you, Steve…I’m still in love with you and I can’t get over you.”

That four letter word: Love. That’s all that he needed to hear, and it’s the word that had been dying to come off your tongue again. You loved Steve with every single ounce of your being. As if he was a drug running through your veins and you needed him to survive. You needed the one person who believed in you when no one else did.

You needed Steve, but you were terrified that he didn’t need you anymore.

“You didn’t listen to my message did you?” Steve asked quietly, letting go of one of your hands and bringing them up to wipe away at the tears on your cheek.

“W-what?” You ordered dumb-founded, feeling as though Steve didn’t hear that whole monologue that you just made up out of nowhere.

He grinned lightly, withdrawing his hand from your cheek and blindlessly, reaching over to the phone and clicking the play button on the leftover messages you had left.

You felt your breathing stop when you heard his voice echoing through the staticky speakers. There was no way that Steve called you last night. You had played the messages on your machine, and all you got were messages from Nancy, Robin, and Eddie. But you also forgot that your outdated machine sorted your messages from new to old, meaning Steve must have called while you were out last night.

“Hey, it’s me….I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to pick up the phone and call, maybe it’s because I’m a little scared that you’re going to delete it once you hear my voice, but I just really have a bunch of things to say and I guess it’s better now than never right?”

You fastened a hand over your mouth, whimpering quietly into it, while you shook your head, not believing that you could have missed this. If only you had stayed home last night, you would have been there to pick up the phone and talk to him. Steve clutched your other hand still, pushing up his glasses that fell down the bridge of his nose while he watched your reaction to the rest of his message.

“I’m an idiot for the way things went down and I should have explained myself better, but you know…I suck at communication—but that’s still not the point! I made the biggest mistake of letting you go like that and just assuming that’s what you wanted because I know deep down it’s not….it’s probably the last thing you ever wanted, and it’s all my fault.”

There was a pause, him clearing his throat and sniffling as he was crying softly.

“But I’m going to make an even bigger mistake if I don’t tell you that I’m still in love with you. That yeah, I might be the dumbest guy out there for letting go of the most amazing girl, but I’m not about to lose her if there’s still a slight chance that she might still feel the same. I love you and I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

Then he hung up the phone with a loud clank.

And as quickly as Steve had broken your heart, he soon patched it back together. There was a softness to your eyes now, like you had accepted everything. And Steve looked like he was awaiting for any sort of reaction good or bad, due to your silence.

“I-I don’t expect you to take me back that easily. I mean after all I’m an idiot but I just hope that—mph!”

You clutched his face, pressing your lips against one another, feeling like a wave of happiness washing over you the second you got to be this close to a feeling that you thought that was almost gone forever. Steve didn’t hesitate to move his lips against yours, pulling you closer to him until you were toppling on top of him, and lost in everything that was you and Steve.

“You’re an idiot..but mine.” You muttered against him, feeling his smile creeping against your skin before you laughed, kissing him again.

And again. And more times than you can count.

Relishing him and forgetting about the sadness. And sure, maybe you were equally the idiot who took him back too easily, but if there was one thing that the two of you were sure of, it was that this kiss and this love hit a little different because it would always be you two.

A/N: My first full length fic since i've been back!!! im super proud of this one and want to thank @translatemunson for giving me the idea <;3 i love you effie!!!! hits different is also one of my favorite songs and i wonder if taylor really did scrap it off the face of the internet because it's going to be in the Barbie movie--what do you guys think??? anyways, again thank you all for the outpour of support and reblogs, comments, and likes would be greatly appreciated!!! 🌃🕯💘

leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for putting less effort into food if I know the person who eats it wouldn't appreciate/finish it anyway?

I like to cook, especially for people I like. And there's not many people I like. One of them is my bf, who basically never has the energy to cook for himself, and who I was initially excited to cook for when he moved in. But it turns out he has little appetite period, and he eats so slow that his food always gets cold (or melts if it was cold to begin with), and he literally doesn't care at all. Like, he'll drink melted ice cream and eat room-temperature soup, is how little he cares. And regardless of how much quality remains in the meal, he's basically never ever able to finish it. He always has to-go boxes when we go out to eat and I have to remind him that he has them or else he completely forgets.

Basically there's a lot of food waste that's inevitable with him for adhd reasons (which I understand!) and he has really insensitive taste buds (I also know it's not his fault) that make cooking for him very... not satisfying. And also objectively wasteful. So if there's shortcuts that I can take that I maybe wouldn't take with my own food but it's not gonna make it dangerous to eat or anything, I do it. I know he won't know the difference or care.

Recently I mentioned to a family member how I did this because I was also saying how I don't waste the good water on my little sister who's a toddler and whose water is always mixed with juice anyway. They were appalled and I tried to explain that the tap water isn't gonna make her sick, it's just not to our tastes because we're used to a specific minerality, meanwhile my sister literally does not know any difference. It's extra time and money to go fill up our water jugs with the "purified" stuff, so I'm just being efficient by not using it if I don't need to.

That explanation didn't make that family member calm down at all; they told me I was treating my sister "like a dog." (Personally I don't think that there's a specific different treatment that humans and dogs "deserve" or anything either but whatever.) This is where I went on to say that it wasn't like I had anything against my sister bc I do this with my own boyfriend too, and it's just a matter of being efficient and not putting extra effort where it doesn't matter and won't be noticed. Like, you're not gonna waste the $200 vodka on a cocktail, right? No. If you're mixing it with a bunch of juice and whatnot you use the bottom shelf stuff. It turns out the same.

You can probably guess that that still didn't help. They're insistent I'm like a psychopath or something for being like this. I think the explanation makes it make perfect sense though. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[kuromi-hoemie]

Please drop the drink recipes that u cant taste the alcohol 😍

I'll share my two faves rn ^.^

Lazy Blackberry Mojito

ingredience..:

pink lemonade

club soda

bicardi

a box of blackberries

my steps :3

Put the blackberries in a ziplock bag (after cleaning them) n smash them to a pulp; it leaves you with the leftover juice and bits.

Add a few rounded scoops in a jar, fill with ice.

Pour bicardi (GENTLY), count to 6. u could do more tbh..

Fill halfway with club soda, fill the other half with pink lemonade.

Mix thoroughly.

This one's meant 2 be enjoyed with a boba straw so you can suck up and chew on the berry bits as u go.

Sparkling Sour Apple Cider

ingredieths:

Smirnoff Green Apple Vodka

Sparkling Apple Cider Non-alcoholic

Bicardi

my steps :3

Fill w ice.

Pour bicardi, count to ur preferred number.

Fill up to about a third with green apple vodka.

Fill the rest with Apple Cider.

The green apple vodka is very sweet and together they come out sort of like a sour apple soda.

Closing Thots...

Very generally I'd just say it's a ratio game to me 0: I try to fill the bottom 10-20% (usually) with liquor then mix whatever drinks/juices seem complementary.

The secret to a drink that hardly tastes like liquor is to not use too much lol!! 😭 u can always come back and make another one, if the first one could've been stronger u can go stronger, but start small.

Filling the whole thing with ice makes it go by fast and hits very refreshingly anyhow :^} see these ratio pics as just very loose starting points u can move around from.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

Dance with me

In which, boyfriend!harry and you are at a wedding, and you really don’t know how to dance

word count: 336

. . .

Weddings were the best.

No work stress or drama. Just going to the wedding with your boyfriend, drinking, and having fun. It was like getting out of your life for just one day, enjoying yourself. But, there was one thing you didn’t enjoy.

Dancing.

Blame you for never learning even the basic dance forms, you just weren’t interested. Since school, you had never kept any strings attached to dancing, after your prom date had ditched you for another girl. You had been heartbroken that day, sitting at the corner of the ballroom, with vodka mixed in your juice. Couples swayed with each other across the room, laughing and kissing. That could have been you, but there you were, sipping a shitty drink with no remorse, eyeing everyone with siren eyes.

You hated dancing after that.

And it didn’t help when a friend of Harry’s, whose wedding it was, asked you to join the bride and groom on the floor to dance with them.

“C’mon, it will be so much fun. We can even kiss during the slow songs.” Harry tugged at your hand and pouted, to convince you to get on the floor with him. But, you were reluctant.

“Noooo” you protested, but he managed to swoop you into his arms and carried you to the dance floor, putting you down.

Your face was fully red now, from the shame and embarrassment, but Harry showed none of that. There was a smirk on his face as he held your hands in his, and started to move to the soft music flowing across the room.

“Harry, I don’t know how to dance!”

“It’s never too late to learn, is it?”

You smiled, as he guided your body along with his.

Until I found you started to play next, and you wrapped his arms around his neck. He leaned in, and kissed your lips, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

. . .

helloooo <3 it's my first time writing anything, feedback is truly, madly, deeply appreciated!!! :))

also, if you want me to do a taglist for anything I may write in the future, let me know!!

[hannahssimblr]

I feel bad for Liam, and eventually do extend a pity invite to what I intend to be a quiet night in with a couple of beers a couple of nights later. It’s been a day just like all of the others, spent alternating between kicking a lightweight ball from the tourist shop about, barefoot on the sand, and jumping into the sea when the sun gets too hot. 

In the late afternoon, when the skin across my nose feels tight and my hair wild and crunchy from the salt, I queue for ice cream at the Surf Shack where Liam is slinging cones and coffees. I have a sense that Liam suffers. He must, while slaving away in that tiny space between the counter and the grill that’s always sizzling with the chips and burgers that his father is flipping. He smiles widely at me when I reach the head of the line, sweat pooling on his forehead and that feeling of sympathy intensifies inside me. My sympathy, partially, because I’ve never really tried to be nice to him for reasons that neither he or I can fully understand. I invite him over on the spot.

A part of me hopes he won’t come, that he’ll be too awkward, but, of course, he does. His mother drops him off outside and he knocks on the door with a big, jolly smile and a big plastic bottle of coke. I bring it to the kitchen counter with our crates of beer and bottles of vodka. 

“Will you have a glass of this?” I offer, “Or you can have a beer or something.”

“Whatever you’re having.”

“Oh, well I’ll have vodka, probably… I’ll mix it with the coke or whatever.”

Liam, thrilled that I have chosen to make use of the drink he brought, perks up as I unscrew the top, “Okay I’ll have the same then!”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, that sounds lovely.”

I pour some for him and we head down to the living room together, where Joe and Kasper are arguing animatedly about whose ipod should be connected to the aux cable. As I sink onto the sofa next to Jen, she puts her head on my shoulder. 

“You were nice to invite him,” she says, and we watch Liam as he strikes up an enthusiastic conversation with Shane about football.

“Yeah well,” I mutter, “Keep an eye on him. My money's on him getting hammered tonight.”

I don’t know if Liam gets hammered, I stop paying attention to him after an hour or so, because I, in fact, am the one who drinks too much that night. It starts when Joe starts pouring doubles in the kitchen, and Kasper starts up a dangerous bragging game, claiming that he can hold more drink than all of us combined. 

“Even more than you!” he claims, his finger stabbing at my chest, “Mister big guy. Polish can drink more than the Irish.”

“You mean American,” Joe pipes up, “Or, I dunno, what are you?”

“Not sure,” I say, and slosh an undetermined measure of vodka into my cup. It breaches the rim and splashes on the floor a bit, but I’ll definitely clean it up later. To make a point I neck the whole thing in five seconds, then Kasper tilts his head and swallows his whole cup too, wiping his mouth with a smile and a shrug like it was easy. I know I’m in trouble. 

It’s hazy after that, and when I’m pushing the living room furniture out of the way and forcing Jen to dance with me to some Armin Van Buuren song, she squeals in my arms. “God, no! I hate dancing!”

“But you love dancing with me.”

“You are so drunk, show me your face,” she grabs my cheeks and looks right into my eyes, and she’s swimming in and out of focus, “Oh my god, yes, you’re smashed.”

“I love you, Jenny.”

“I know.”

I kiss one cheek then the other, and repeat, “I love you.”

“I thought she was lesbian,” Liam comments from the sideline. 

“Come on,” she peels me off her, clamping her hand over my mouth, because she doesn’t like the way I’m trying to sing words I don’t even know into the side of her face, I try to lightly bite her palm, “Hey! Come outside with me, I’m going to have a smoke.”

“Okay.”

She takes my hand and leads me upstairs and through the kitchen where our shoes are tacky on the floor. “Ugh, sticky.”

“I’ll clean it sometime.”

“Uh huh, sure you will,” she rummages through a cabinet and produces a pack of cigarettes from behind my parents’ champagne flutes. 

“Why do you keep them in there?” I wonder. 

“Because you’ll sneak them from me if you know where they are, and then one by one they’ll be squirrelled away, but rest assured, I’ll find a new spot to hide them tomorrow.”

“I don’t smoke.”

She smirks, “okay.”

“Not properly,”

“Then don’t ask me for one,”

I was going to, but don’t, to make a point. 

She unlocks the balcony door, “I saw a film recently that I think you’d like.”

“Really?” I don’t know how she thinks I can be involved in a discussion about films right now, but I suspect she doesn’t, that she's trying to distract me so that I don’t start bumming any of her rare and precious cigarettes. My brain doesn’t have the functioning nor the willpower to let her know I’m in on her little trick, so I just listen, or half listen to her go on about it. 

“...kind of that vibe, like you think it’s a simplistic, kind of run of the mill, then all this bonkers shit starts happening and like… oh hang on, c’mere, can you bring me out that lighter in there?”

“Over there?”

“Yep, on the table.”

I grab it and bring it to her, taking a risky move and tossing it, but she’s quick, she catches it before it careens over the edge of the balcony, proving her coordination a lot better than mine in this condition. I rest my elbows against the tempered glass of the railing because I’m losing trust in myself to stay upright. Is she talking about a David Lynch film? I should have listened to her at the beginning of this conversation because now it’s too late to ask. 

The world is churning, but I am invested in watching her try to light the cigarette, because there are two lighters, two mouths, two Jens. The sight of it is funny enough to make me laugh, as both her faces float around in front of my eyes like some magical illusion. 

“Feck sake,” the lighter sparks but fails to ignite, “This one is out of juice. Here, I think there’s another one in that bowl downstairs.”

She doesn’t trust me on the balcony alone, I can tell by the things the muscles in her brow are doing, the way she tugs me away from the edge, and I don’t think I trust myself either. I picture myself falling over the railing onto the sand, and decide that I would prefer not to be paralysed or dead before I ever see Berlin. I follow her back to the kitchen. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

corresponding LG chapter

[romanscool]

Results!!

the people have spoken! who am I to ignore such a good vote honestly (no one im a sucker for drunk max as well)

Drunk Max is a touchy Max:

The first time Daniel sees Max drunk, they’re in a club in Malaysia. He’s flushed, and wobbly walking, and laughing too much. 

Now, he’s quiet, though. They’re flying from Malaysia to back home in Monaco. They’ve partied all night, so obviously they still have some alcohol running in their blood, even though Daniel’s bodily fluids feel more like blood running in alcohol, and it makes his head buzz. He hasn’t seen Max pretty much all evening, only sharing a couple glances here and there, too caught up in the adrenaline of the win and the pretty girls that flooded the dance floor, but now he feels kind of bad. Max deserved to celebrate a one-two too. 

Except the celebration is finished now, they’re on the plane, a plane that’s too bright and loud for Daniel’s liking, and don’t even get him started on the kid that’s been fighting the back of his seat for at least half an hour now. Daniel has never been much of a child person and this particular one isn’t helping with the view Daniel has of the species. Little fucking monsters.

Max helps though. He’s next to Daniel, on the window seat, lucky bastard, and also completely passed out. His always neat hair is fucked up, spiky and still smelling like a mix of Red Bull, vodka and sweat, his eyes are more bags than actual skin and his lips are so dry it makes Max look like someone who’s just passed three years in fucking Antartica, despite having spent a week in a country that’s way too hot and humid. 

It’s kind of sweet, though. Max is a kid, and he looks like one, all pimple and red cheeks flushing so fucking always but he doesn’t feel like one. Like, sure, he and Daniel joke around all the time, and they’re pretty immature about it, too, laughing like they’re on a candy high 24/7. And Max’s dad is near most of the time, a shadow in the paddock no one wants to cross, not even fucking Max, it’s pretty scary. So it’s clear Max is still barely eighteen. A kid. 

But they have these conversations sometimes, in the middle of the night when they’re both in Monaco and they know they could easily go to the other’s apartment any time they want, but they don’t. They text. Like kids. And in those moments, when Daniel can’t see the baby fat around Max’s face and the childish sparkle only half-hidden by big and thick eyelashes, Daniel can’t associate Max with being barely an adult. It certainly doesn’t feel like it, in the way he speaks, all fancy and perfect English, and his voice isn’t there to crack and betray his age. So, it’s times like these Daniel likes Max a little more than he should.

And right now, he’s sitting in a plane with Max beside him and the only thing going through Daniel’s mind is that he wants to kiss him. Doesn’t even want to be gentle either, he wants to be rough, teeth clacking and saliva everywhere, make it something mature that Max just isn’t. But it’s easy for Daniel to think it’s something that could happen when Max is sleeping peacefully, pale like a sick man and snoring like a grandpa. It’s easy.

It shouldn’t be. 

It isn’t easy when Max puts a hand on Daniel’s shoulder just as he goes to sip his drink. Drunk Max is a touchy Max, Daniel’s noticed, but what he notices less and less these days is that drunk Max is still eighteen-year-old Max, even with how much Daniel wishes it wasn’t the case. But being eighteen doesn’t come with not being touchy, and maybe Daniel’s reading too much into it, or maybe the tequila is fucking with his brain, but he can’t not stare at Max’s lips when he takes a shot, and the fucking lip freckle that Max always licks when he passes his tongue over his mouth to get the last drops of whatever he just drank in his stomach. Daniel thinks it isn’t fair.

And Max laughs, and laughs, and snickers when his mouth is still full of liquid, because drunk Max is still easy-to-laugh Max, especially when Daniel’s here. 

And drunk Daniel is still easy-to-laugh-it-off Daniel as well, so he shakes Max’s hand off off his shoulder and ruffles Max hair to make himself remember he’s a kid. It’s not right. So Daniel shakes it off, laughs to pretend everything is okay and a single touch hasn’t awaken his libido in fucking seconds and goes to find a reasonably aged girl wherever a reasonably aged girl could be in a Monaco club. 

Turns out there’s lots of them. They’re all pretty. Daniel doesn’t want to look too much into it when he picks the one with short dirty blond hair and red plump lips. Tells himself he’s into European looking girls, even though he’s never been, that maybe it’s a thing he’s picked up when he turned 27 last month.

Daniel’s 29 now. He’s still into tall blonde girls and ones that laugh too loud. He’s still into girls with freckles on their face and ones that can’t dress to save their lives. He’s still into girls that don’t look like strangers but that are. It’s easier that way. 

Max is 21 now. He’s still a kid, just a tad older. He isn’t as round on the face, sharper nose and cheekbones. He isn’t as sharp in his body, rounder waist and arms. Daniel doesn’t want to notice that be he does. He notices the hair that starts to grow just under that sharper nose and the muscle that’s building up on his chest, making his Red Bull merch polo stick to his shoulders tighter than it used to. 

Max is 21 and his face is sharper and his body rounder but he still can’t handle alcohol. Two shots of vodka in and slowly nursing a g&t, Max can’t stop himself from getting his fingertips on the small of Daniel’s back. Daniel’s learned to ignore it now. He gets better at it every time they go out, even though they don’t as much this year. The DNFs start to pile up. 

But it’s Mexico, and Daniel got pole, but Max won, so Daniel wonders what he’s even doing here. The girls in Mexico always have dark feature, long brown hair that cascade down their back and chocolate eyes that Daniel used to want to drown in, but not anymore. So it’s clear he isn’t taking anyone home tonight. He’ll have to drown in shitty whiskey and expensive tequila instead. He’ll have to drown under Max’s touch that seems to want to spread over Daniel’s whole body and go home before midnight to not wonder what the fuck he’s doing with his life.

One night, when they’re both in Monaco again, and Daniel is just waiting for the season to end, he finds a drunk Max on his doorstep. A very drunk Max. Which isn’t usual. Not that Max is drunk, because he always is in some type of way, drunk on a win or some wine it doesn’t matter, because Daniel’s used to Max being giddy. He’s used to Max being drunk Max. Thank God for it. 

The weird thing is, when they’re both in Monaco, and even when either one of them is drunk, the only thing they’ll do is text. Like fucking kids, text message that always have too much abbreviations for Max and typos for Daniel. It’s always this way. Texts. Daniel is glad for it in a way, because drunk Max being a drunk Max, he can’t handle himself, and Daniel’s fine handling him in public, but he’s not sure he’ll be able to do it at home. Especially after the neat whiskey he’s started to drink after already finishing three, the one in the glass that’s still on his nightstand. Daniel drinks in bed, so what.

And this drunk Max is flushed, but still standing, so that’s good, but the flush is making the pimples and red spots on his neck and jaw pop out, which isn’t fucking good. At all. Makes Daniel remember Max is still only 21 and that he shouldn’t lust after a guy that just grown out of his teen years. 

« Fuckin’ hell, mate, what the fuck are you doing here. »

« Shut up. » 

Drunk Max is a touchy Max. Turns out he’s also a kissy Max. And he kisses like a kid. All teeth and too much tongue, not even bothering to ask if he can hold Daniel’s waist in the obscene way he’s doing right now. He kisses like he has a lisp, lips scattered everywhere and letting out noises Daniel knows he’ll hear in his dreams tonight. He really hopes Max will be there while he dreams too, though, which isn’t something he should be thinking. But Max has a grip that’s just a little too tight on his hair and it’s fucking up the whole thing sitting inside Daniel’s skull. 

Fucking drunk touchy kid fucking up his whole life. 

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

Dead dove: do not eat, Sexual Harrassment, Drunk König, rowdy 141, Soap being a bad influence, Intoxication, Ghost being a creep, Groping, TW: Date rape vibes, Predatory behavior

Ghost's creepiness levels sharply increase in this chapter. So, again, enter with caution.

Reader POV:

"Mind if I join you?" Ghost said, setting the drink down in front of you.

"I'd rather cut my arm off with a spoon."

Though that's what you wanted to say, you held your tongue. You knew finally having the assignment behind you was entirely up to you now. He’d successfully thrown the ball into your court and it was your move. And with Price sitting right there, watching both of you expectantly, the only option you had was to say yes. So, with a sigh, you scooted further into the bench and gave Ghost ample space to sit down without any actual contact with you. But as he settled into the bench, he didn't stop his approach until you could feel his thigh firmly pressed against your own. So much for trying.

"The bartender told me what you'd ordered earlier.” Ghost said, looking over at you. “I figured I owed you an apology after how I acted during sparring this morning. So, I hope this drink can make amends."

He was being nice. Too nice. His performance was a good one, but the crafty spark in his eyes confirmed to you that all of this was just for show. It made you wary and uncomfortable. But out of the corner of your eye, you saw Price’s eyes had shifted to you now as he waited for your response.

"Fine. You wanna play games? I can play games too."

"I'm sorry too," you said, putting on a bashful display of repentance. "I shouldn't have taken your mask like that. I just wanted revenge for how scared I was the night before."

Ghost's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly. You weren't really going to announce the truth of your first unpleasant encounter in front of everyone. Admittedly, you were still too scared to really tell anyone at this point. But he didn't know that, and it was so satisfying to make him squirm.

"Your move, asshole."

Across the table, Price was completely unaware of the silent battle that raged on across the table. In his ignorance, he beamed with pride.

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it? Now, do you think you two could turn a new leaf and keep things friendly?”

“I don’t see why not,” Ghost said, giving you a “friendly” pat on your leg under the table. And to your horror, he didn't remove his hand. Instead, it continued to lay there on your thigh, his fingers beginning to toy with the hem of your dress as he turned to you. “What about you, Y/n? Think you could give me a chance? You won’t be disappointed.”

The double meaning didn't miss you as you plastered a smile on your face, grinding out your response through gritted teeth.

“Sounds just great to me.”

“Wonderful,” Price said, standing and stretching a bit. “On that note, consider your assignment complete. Ain’t nothing a little teamwork can’t fix!”

Against your better judgment, you reached for the large glass Ghost had brought you as a much needed distraction. The first one you'd bought had been so good. Just one more couldn't hurt and maybe it would calm your nerves a bit too. Or give you the courage to alert Price to his actions. Either way, you took a generous sip.

But you immediately regretted it. You swallowed and grimaced as the sharp taste of alcohol flooded your taste buds, coughing as it made your stomach warm. It was nothing like the first one. It had been mixed so strong, he might as well have brought you your own personal bottle of vodka!

"Jesus Christ," you said between coughs, frantically reaching for your water and taking a long drink. "What the hell did you put in this?"

"Aw, what's wrong?" Ghost asked innocently, his hand now having slipped just beneath the fabric, kneading the delicate skin where your thigh and stomach met. "I told him to make it just like your first one. Come on, you're a big girl. Give it another try?"

Your blood ran cold as the realization hit you. He was trying to get you drunk! He wanted you to be dazed and disoriented. He wanted your defenses dropped far lower than you'd let them get otherwise.

You shook your head, hurriedly pushing the beverage away. The moment gave you an excuse to shift in your seat and attempt to dislodge his wandering hand. But he simply refused to back off.

"No, I'm good." You smiled, eyes darting to Price in a silent plea. "But thanks anyway."

But Price wasn't looking in your direction at the moment, becoming increasingly distracted by the antics of the neighboring table. And glancing back at Ghost, his burning stare confirmed your original suspicion. He was definitely up to something nefarious.

Though the music still played on and the night was relatively young. But you'd made up your mind. It was time to go home. And you wouldn't feel entirely at ease until you were safe in your room at the barracks with the door locked behind you.

You scooted towards Ghost, nudging him firmly to signal that you wanted to get up. But he didn't budge, content with keeping you trapped on the bench beside him. It wasn't until you verbally announced a desire to get up loud enough for Price to overhear that he withdrew his hand and moved out of your way.

As soon as you were on your feet, you made a beeline for König. You knew if you told him you felt uncomfortable and asked him to take you home, he'd personally whisk you away without hesitation. But when you spotted him among the others at his table, it was clear his condition had worsened significantly since your dance. He was shouting excitedly with the rest of his rowdy group as the drinking game raged on, cheering for Soap as he chugged yet another strong drink. His speech was habitually morphing into slurred German, and he’d occasionally flop back against his seat in fits of drunken giggles. He was piss drunk and unaware of little else.

“Soap,” you yelled as the man slammed his empty glass down on the table, reveling in the resulting cheers from his mates. “How much did you make him drink?”

“I don’t know,” he giggled, struggling to tally up the mess of empty glasses that lay strewn their table. “I kinda lost track after round three.”

“Shit,” you leaned over, waving to get König’s attention. “Babe, are you okay?”

His gaze floated over to you and a stream of words started pouring out of him excitedly. “Maus! Wann bist du hier angekommen? Willst du mit mir tanzen?”

“König, you’re speaking German. I can’t understand you.”

His head hung heavily as he slumped back against the cushion, laughing at nothing in particular. His eyelids were heavy as he giggled, his eyes dazed and a little too gleeful. He was utterly wasted!

Soap was about to start yet another round of tomfoolery, too. But as he raised another drink above his head, drumming up excitement for his next act, Price quickly leaned in and plucked it from his grasp.

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “I think you’ve had more than enough for a night.”

Soap pouted, reaching out to snatch it back, but not succeeding as Price held it well out of his reach.

“Aw, come on, Johnny boy! Don’t be a spoil sport.”

But Price was not changing his mind, having finally reached his limit. He jumped into the fray, dragging man after man out of the booth and onto their feet. A chorus of complaints arose, but their protest fell on deaf ears as Price put a swift end to the game and decided it was as good a time as any to end the night.

“I think it's high time I got these boys home before they start causing trouble,” he said, helping a stumbling subordinate back to balance. “Some sleep and a good morning run should get this out of their systems, too.”

Price crossed his arms as the soldiers let out a collective groan at the idea. The few of them who were still sober groaned the loudest, but they all obediently began to file out of the building and into the parking lot. As König weakly dragged himself to the edge of the bench, Price moved to help him up as well. You rushed over to assist, eyes full of concern. The captain slung one of his arms around his shoulder to keep him from falling over. And from the way König wobbled every other step, he likely would have. You clung to his side as extra support, walking in step with Price as he headed towards the front door.

"It's probably not best for a little thing like you to be crammed into a car with this lot," Price warned you. “I don’t want you getting hurt if things get rowdy. Don’t worry, I’ve got him.”

After rummaging through König’s pockets for a moment to find his keys, Price produced Ghost’s keys from his own pocket and tossed them at him. He had thought this whole thing through, making doubly sure Ghost wouldn’t run back to base as soon as he looked the other way. But as Ghost caught his keys and smirked down at you, you suddenly wished Price hadn’t been so thorough after all.

"Ghost,” Price said, arms tightening around König as he began to go limp. “You think you can look after her?"

Ghost chuckled, a little too pleased with the proposition. "I'll take good care of her, don't you worry."

“Good. I’m going to make sure everyone gets home safely.” Price said, taking a deep breath and straightening up a bit. If anyone continued their antics between now and their return to base, heaven help them. Because Price looked like a tired parent just a few minutes away from snapping. But he gave Ghost a quick nod. “You make sure she gets home safe too, okay? But take the time you need. If you two wanted to stay a while longer and start getting to know each other as friends, that’s fine by me.”

With that, Price departed with a very giggly König in tow and left you all on your own with Ghost. No longer having to play his part for their audience, Ghost’s expression fell right back to his usual fiery stare. There was something in his eyes that made your skin crawl. Something dangerous and predatory. Something that made you want to defy Price’s orders and run after him anyway.

“Well then,” Ghost said in a gruff rumble. “How about we get to know each other a little better?”

You blushed a deep red, eyes frantically scanning the area for any viable escape route. “In what way, exactly?”

Ghost approached, his hand trailing down your side. “I have a few ideas in mind I think you’d enjoy.”

“Um,” you shrank back, eyes landing on the bathrooms across the room. “Um, I have to use the bathroom. But after that, we can just go home. I’m pretty tired, actually.”

Pulling away and out of his reach, you began a speedy walk towards the woman’s bathroom. You could stall for time in there. And then, once you found a good opening, you’d lose him in the crowd and make a mad dash for the front door. You glanced over your shoulder at him but were disturbed to see him following right behind you.

“It’s okay, I know the way,” you offered with a nervous laugh. “It’s not like I’ll get lost.”

“No, I told Price I’d keep an eye on you,” he said, stubbornly remaining right behind you the whole way. His voice lowered to a threatening whisper. “Besides, you never know who might try to take advantage of a pretty girl like you, all alone in a place like this.”

“Fuck!”

You panicked, increasing your pace and not stopping until you were safely behind the bathroom door. You whirled around and immediately sank to the floor, pressing your back against the door. You doubted he’d actually follow you inside. But with how bold he’d been before, you honestly didn’t know what he was capable of right now. All you knew was that you refused to play along with whatever sick plans he clearly had in store for you now that he had you to himself. You just had to think of a way to escape and get back to base. And you had to do it fast.

I know this story includes some pretty dark themes. But at the end of the day, I care more about the well-being of my readers than I do for hits or kudos. Period. I never want my writing to conjure up emotions or feelings that negatively impact you beyond the story. This story can be dark and uncomfortable at times. But it is always intended strictly for fun and fantasy. If at any point along the way it stops being a pleasurable experience, please please close this page and walk away. My stories are never worth your well-being, loves.

[rafecameronsslxt]

Hooked

Warnings: Toxic relationship, drugs, and angst.

Synopsis: Your boyfriend Rafe Cameron throws a party, but things go south rather quickly ending in tears and anger. 

Rafe cameron x OC

Part ONE of series. (Can be read as stand alone)

Part TWO- Part THREE- Part FOUR- Part FIVE- Part SIX- Part SEVEN

My first ever Rafe Cameron Fanfiction and first time posting on tumblr, yes I’m nervous.

Word Count:  2,335

      Adriana didn’t want to cut the conversation short of JJ talking crap about her boyfriend TO HER, but Adriana needed to get ready for the party. 

   “OK, JJ, I get it. Just shut up for a second, and let me get this on.” I’ve been listening to him for an hour about Rafe, how I NEEDED to break up with him, and that JJ would be the best boyfriend ever. As much as I loved JJ, I’d never date him, but he wishes.

   I made a twirl motion with my finger for JJ to turn around. He did. “Wait, so if I were to break up with Rafe, you think I’d date you? A kook dating a pogue!” I gasped dramatically. “Rafe would kill you. We’ve been dating since high school, J.” I laughed a little at the thought. He turned back around, seeing me in a tan bikini. “It’d be worth it for my kook best friend and my true love.” JJ takes my hand and kisses it. I throw my head back, laughing. “Go away.” I put on white flowy shorts that fit my waist perfectly, a tan button-up long sleeve, and then tied it. 

  I spun around, showing JJ my entire outfit. He looks me up and down playfully and checks the time. “We have to go!” He says quickly. I mumbled ‘right’ and rushed out with JJ running behind me. He picked up all the belongings I’d forgotten, like my purse, which had about everything in it and then my phone.

   We arrived at the party. “Why can’t you come?” I gave JJ my best pouty face. “Rafe would have a fit like usual, and I got shit to do, unlike others.” He coughs, hinting at me being a kook, and gives me the worst excuse. I roll my eyes at him and shut the truck door. Like JJ has EVER cared about what Rafe thought. 

   The first thing center and in the middle was Rafe- snorting coke. You didn’t linger on the sight you’d just seen as it was something you guys had argued about almost every day, it seemed. I walked away and went to find Kie or Sarah, knowing the two would be around somewhere.

   I decided to walk outside to the pool. There she is. “Sarah!” I called out to her. Sarah ran up to me and hugged me. “I missed youuuu.” She says, giggling. Sarah takes my hand, forgetting she’d just been sitting with Topper and the others. She takes us into the kitchen and starts mixing alcohol. At most, I’d seen was vodka, maybe Tequila, and something else. “I don’t want to get wasted tonight.” It was meant to come out in a way that didn’t seem like I was questioning my logic or the words that just came out. 

   “Come on. Rafe has been bringing you down for days now.” She slurs her words while a frown stays on her face. She shoves the cup of ease in my hand and leaves me to it, but just before she goes, Sarah blows you a lovely kiss. ‘Drink it,’ she mouths to you and stumbles away laughing. 

   I swish the liquid around in the red solo cup, deciding whether I should drink it. I take sips of it while I walk around. I spot Rafe again and turn around quickly. I bump into Kie. “KIE, where have you been.” I smile at her. “Just having fun.” She winks at me cheerfully. “No way my Kiara is macking some Kook.” I run a hand through my hair, laughing. I take another sip out of the cup Sarah poured me. “Boyfriend alert!” She coughs, moving her eyes behind me. “I’ll see you later, and give me details,” I whisper while laughing. She gives me a thumbs up and cheers me. 

   I feel him put his arm around my shoulder. “Hey, baby.” I clear my throat, looking up at him with a smile. “Who was that?” He questions with a look in his eye. I was too tipsy for his games today. If Rafe were to ask me to do coke with him right now, I’d say no but hesitate, and I’m not one to hesitate for anything. This is why I stopped drinking alcohol; it makes me vulnerable to bad decisions. 

   “It was Kie. Why?” He shrugs his shoulder. “Just asking, babe. You know how about you and me- me and you go up to my room.” I nodded, but I did it with reluctance at the pure fact that he was hiding something physical or he was going to tell me he was cheating. So instead, he kissed my neck and then took my hand, leading me upstairs. 

   I take my sneakers off and sit on his bed. “Ok. Just listen.” I let out a nervous breath. He takes out a bag of coke. “Ra-” He shuts me up by talking over me and then stops when I do. Rafe cages me in as both arms go on either side of me. “Listen, baby. You should let me,” He pauses, looking into my eyes. I can tell it’s something I’m not going to agree with, especially since it has to do with this. “Just let me do coke off your tits.” I scoff.

   My back hits the bed as I laugh sarcastically at his brilliant idea. I sit up on my elbows. He takes this as an opportunity to get on top of me. “Last time I let you do that, you- you fucking held it over my head every time I asked you to get better.” I shake my head in disbelief. To this day, he holds it like a poster high in the air when I force him to stop doing this or when we get into arguments. 

   He unties my shirt, throwing it onto the ground. “Rafe. I’m not doing this with you.” 

   “Baby, if you let me do this, I’ll let it go. I will. Promise.” He holds out his pinky finger as his other hand finds the bag of coke. I think about it and then link my pinky finger with his. He smiles at me. “Mhm, I miss the badass, Adriana.”

   Rafe gets on his forearms so that he’s closer to me. I pull him in for a kiss. He takes it. It was rough and fast-paced. Then, Rafe starts kissing my neck, undoubtedly making his marks for others to see later on. He moves to my cleavage and looks up at me. I nodded, trying not to smile. Rafe takes off my tan bikini top, looking almost primal in a way or whatever it means. I start feeling hot and sweaty with him on top of me, smothering kisses all over my boobs, giving me too much time to think about what I’m doing. 

   “Rafe fucking pour the coke on me before I say no.” He opens the bag of white powder and dumps some on my boobs. He mumbles, ‘Fuck’ getting off of me. “Rafe, I swear to god if you leave me here.” I feel like I’m on coke. “Baby, I’m right here. Calm down. I’m going to look for a dollar bill. It should be- oh right here.” He smiles at me but then realizes how anxious I look. He gets back on top of me. Rafe kisses me softly. He rubs my cheek with his thumb gently. “We will have the best sex after this. I promise that I’ll fuck you as hard as I can.” He winks at me, which makes me feel a little better, knowing I’ll get some solace out of this act. Right?

   I feel the dollar bill on my skin and look at Rafe. He pauses; he doesn’t notice that I’m looking at him. The rolled-up bill glides across my chest quickly. Rafe lets out a sigh of relief. His face turns red, and I watch his pupils dilate. I feel like crying. “Shit, baby, ready.” He grabs my hips, pulling me closer. I try to stop crying, and I do, but I don’t want to ruin this because he’ll get mad. “Why are your eyes red.” He questions me and puts his face closer to mine. He sighs.

    “Why are you about to cry.” He tries not to look mad, but I can tell he’s getting there. I look away. “Adriana, I’ve been calm with you all night. Don’t start this shit now!” Rafe’s hands make their way to my face forcing me to look at him. His thumb was under my chin, and his index finger held my chin in place. “I’m sorry. Can we just do this, please?” I try and go in for a kiss, but he gets off of me. 

   Tears start falling. Like a lot of tears start coming out. Rafe throws me the top of my bikini. I don’t put it on yet; instead, I cross my arms, covering my boobs. “Put your fucking top on, Adriana. It’s over. You already fucked it all up.” 

   “Please, Rafe, I can fix this.” He turns his back away from me as I try to make him turn around. “Why are you crying. Adriana why!? I mean, make me fucking understand, ADRIANA.” Rafe starts yelling as he points at himself, angry at me. “Can you help me?” My voice turns shaky as I ask him. I’ve tied enough of my own tops to know how to do this, but maybe he’ll calm down. “See, I can fucking help you, and you can’t help me. I just wanted to do some cocaine and fuck, but you can’t even do the simplest thing.” Rafe whispers in my ear threatenly as he ties my top too tight. 

   “Look at me.” He demands. I look up at him. I can feel him press against my lower back, although I don’t think he’s doing it on purpose. His hand snakes up my stomach to my neck. He squeezes my neck and then kisses me hard. I kiss back, but not with the vast amount of intensity as him. He lets go of my neck as I let out a breath that I was holding in, and It was hard to breathe. “I’m going to go back downstairs. Ok, baby. I love- you.” He raises his eyebrows at me, obviously calming down. “I love you too, baby.” I barely smile at him and decide against giving him a soft kiss like I usually would in these situations, which we also seem to be in more because of me. 

   Rafe left me alone in his room, not bothering to ask if I wanted to come with him. Of course, I didn’t, but still. I sit down on his bed and start breaking down. I look down at the floor and see my shirt that I don’t care to pick up or put on. 

   I lay down and get under the comforter as his smell envelops me. I start to hyperventilate. My organs feel like they're stopping, and my lungs are out of oxygen. As I try to breathe, I feel someone sit down on the bed and hug me. “Adriana, what did he do,” Kiara asks me, concerned. “Nothing- I just need to breathe, Kie.” I count in my head, breathing in one, two, three, and then breath out. I do it a couple more times. Finally, I reach a stable point where I can breathe without it being ragged. 

   Kie lays in the bed with me. “Ad, you have to tell me what happened.” She puts her arm around my waist. I take a deep breath in. “After I talked with you. Rafe took me upstairs obviously and- and asked to do coke off my boobs, and I let him and then started crying because I just-” My voice starts cracking, and I start sniffling. “Hey, it’s ok. It’s not your fault, Ad. You just wanted to make him happy.” Kie hadn’t been sure of her response to this situation and was still unsure about what had happened. Kiara rests her head on me. We lay here for another five minutes in peaceful silence.

   I am so grateful to have Kie. I don’t know what I’d do without her. “Hey, the party is probably ending. I have to go, ok. I love you.” She smiles at me and then gets up. I pull her in for a hug. “I love you too. Make sure to tell me details tomorrow.” I laugh a little. She waves at me, smiling and shuts Rafe’s bedroom door leaving me all alone.

   I started to get uncomfortable in my clothes, ergo I changed into one of Rafe’s button-up long sleeves neither did I put shorts on, just panties. I usually never used my phone, but I always kept it with me just in case something happened, and I wanted to see if Rafe had maybe texted me. There was nothing other than JJ telling me goodnight. So I texted with a simple ‘gn.’ I wasn’t in the mood tonight for his B.S. 

   I put my phone on the bedside table and went to sleep. I didn’t see tonight ending like this, and I wished it hadn’t

   Rafe entered his bedroom, turned the light on, and saw Adriana sleeping. “Adriana, you awake.” He asked her, but there wasn’t a reply. He wanted to make sure she’d been asleep, plus he felt like shit and couldn’t handle another argument tonight. 

   The tired boy took off his polo shirt and shorts, throwing them on the ground next to his girlfriends’ clothes. Then, he got into bed with her as her sleeping body faced him. He felt terrible that he made her think that the whole argument was her fault when it was all his fault.

   Rafe pulled his body closer to Adriana’s. She moved closer to Rafe as she tried to get comfortable in her sleep. “I’m sorry.” He said sincerely to the still beautiful sleeping girl.

[scarlovebot]

2 A.M PATIENT WHISPERS

Natasha romanoff x female reader

hiya this is my first fic <3 please be patient I am very scared

Summary: You can’t sit through a casual evening, resulting in anger and disappointment from both yourself and Natasha

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

Nothing good happens after 2 A.M, supposedly.

You should have listened.

It started as casual drinks, a simple mix of vodka lemonade and beers (to much of your disgust as cocktails were the more obvious choice). As the group of the earths mightiest heroes settle within the lounge-diner of the compound, soft tunes cascade from the speakers and scattered chatter floats from person to person.

Almost telepathically Tony and yourself look into one another’s eyes sensing boredom which can only be fixed with one solution, tamper with the drinks.

A mischievous grin is shared amongst the pair, Y/N clutches onto her almost empty glass rising from her slouched demeanour, announcing “Anyone for another drink?”.

The group declares their ever so boring orders, Tony injects himself into the situation offering a simple helping hand for the individual bartender of the evening (now declaring this role as yours for the evening).

With the plan in toe you head for the bar, standing backwards towards the group so no peeping eyes can see the chaos forming.

Unknown to you and your now presumed partner in crime, the group have already caught onto the awfully thought out organisation.

The naughty glint in yours eyes could be recognised by almost anyone, known for the light hearted tricks pulled in recent events your coworkers have become wary of almost everything you do when not in the field (somehow trusted more in the battle front than in the comfort of your own home).

The first mistake being your casual question came out more demanding, laced with hidden giggles and an attempt at a sultry tone. So when Tony and yourself made the great escape everyone’s eyes shared a similar soft eye roll - little did you know a secretive plan had been put into place when faced with this similar situation: Do not touch your drinks from this point onwards.

With all four hands full of ‘poisoned’ beverages, the former playboy and his rascal of a ‘mini me’ made their return.

And now the second mistake was the self mutation, knowing that you’ve done something that would not be approved by the captain would always result in the sudden silence of your loud, opinionated voice.

However, it’s accurate to say that your ego won’t lower to admit but Captain America wasn’t who y/n threat the most, no it was the women who showered you in flattery and possessed you as hers.

Yourself and Natasha Romanoff had been an item for a little over a year and it’s been a fever dream to say the least. The older women rarely looses her temper with your cheeky self, but the turning point in her mind is when you play games. This isn’t to say that she turns into the green gorilla, no she turns into a motherly figure which your young, tipsy self loved to egg on. And Nat was not your biggest fan during these moments.

With the drinks handed to the culprits you were ready for the games to commence. The sly looks aiming in your direction went completely through you, your drunken eyes had lost its perception of clear view - Natasha could see you slowly losing all self control which caused an internal battle in her head: choosing between the role-play of

a sympathetic girlfriend or agitated mother.

as undecided she was Nat didn’t want her cherub to completely suffer, rising from her seat in frustration the assassin strolled over with grabby hands, taking a tight grip on either side of your rib cage she hoisted the limp body which sprawled out upon her.

y/n brows furrowed with a childlike pout, suddenly overtaken with sensitivity. The realities of your actions were coming to surface. No, you didn’t cause harm but had been profusely told that casual drinking meant casual drinking (nights like this were becoming way too familiar).

with gentleness Natasha spoke “детка, bed” and with that you shook your head, whining due being sent to your room.

“y/n why do you think I’m sending you to bed?” Natasha’s voice laced with sternness, not wanting to surrender to what you saw as a ‘punishment’ y/n made an attempt to wriggle out of her tight grasp, mindlessly aiming for the bar - you can only imagine who won this game of cat and mouse.

Surprise, neither.

by the end of the evening Natasha and y/n were the only two left in the living area due to the battle y/n had put it.

Unlike before you had lost your temper, no longer finding the motherly instinct caring and instead condescending.

it had now hit 3 A.M and to say the pair was exhausted was an understatement: y/n being left with very little voice and red tear stained face, Natasha having buckets of sweat dripping from every inch of her body, and clothing that looked ten sizes too big (the reason being y/n pulling on Natasha’s clothing to remain anywhere but their shared bedroom).

the exhaustion finally took over y/n body, looking up to Natasha’s eye-line who stood towering over you, “bedtime….” You sung out in embarrassment and guilt.

taken by surprise your merely awake partner hooked her arms underneath and hoisted you up, holding by the waist and delicately grabbing your chin - oh fuck.

“тигр, this ends now! I haven’t got a clue what got into you tonight but you need to go to bed. and think about what you have done” your loves eyes narrowed with anger, yet a softness remained.

you were done playing games knowing that the line had been crossed many, many hours ago. turning away from Nat and stomping up the stairs: not in anger but frustration at your actions. slamming the door hard enough so that the sound echoed throughout the mammoth length of the corridor, not caring who awoke.

Natasha didn’t hurry up after you, this was nothing new to the red head. You would fill with rage and project the feelings onto anything, then the next day silent treatment , and to finish it off - a waterfall of tears and repeated apologies.

as the door took its attack this was your girlfriends cue to dismay the discipline approach and forth come with love.

The kind of love that holds you close through your worst mistakes, peppering you with mass amounts of kisses, and tangling yourself together with her patiently giving you a telling off.

[lovechrisowen]

-party-

THIS IS MY FIRST EVER FAN FIC SO PLEASE DONT BE TOO HARSH!!

matt x reader

warnings: smut smut smut, cursing. think that’s abt it

don’t read if your not okay with smut.

i was getting ready. on the floor,sitting infront of long mirror in matt’s room. i finished my makeup adding some setting spray to hopefully set my makeup for the long night ahead of me. i stood up,flattening out my skirt,as matt walked in. he stood there and smiled at me whilst i fixed my hair. we’ve been friends for the longest. i always felt some sort of romantic connection with him but pushed those feelings down since i didn’t think he’d feel the same. i looked over at him and exchanged the smile he was giving me. “you look pretty y/n” he said. i felt butterflies grow in my stomach. “thanks mattt” i replied stretching out his name. i thought of what to say, “you look quite handsome yourself” i said with a smile. i saw as his face burned up with the cutest shade of pink. “well thank you y/n” he says as he places a hand over his chest. i giggle at his gesture as he exchanges a smile. we hear a knock on the door followed by the voice of chris. “are you guys ready the uber is here!” he slightly yells “yup! we’re ready” matt says as he looks me. we both walk out the the driveway where the uber waits and we all get in the uber sitting down.

matt’s pov:

we pull up to the party, already hearing the loud music from outside the house. we thank the uber driver as we all start walking up to the door. i let y/n enter first. as she’s walking i see her skirt slightly ride up revealing her lace panties. i start to burn up. i’ve never thought about y/n like this. chris and nick start to lead us to the kitchen to grab drinks. me and y/n follow them there. as chris and nick start mixing drinks i can’t help but think about how y/n would look with her hands wrapped around my dick. y/n asks me, “want me to mix you a drink matt?” snapping me out of my trance. “s-sure” she smiles at me before grabbing two cups and heading to the cooler to grab ice. god. i couldn’t stop thinking about her. i felt as my dick kept getting harder and harder. as y/n grabs the ice, her skirt rides up even more showing her clothed pussy. fuck. i lean against the counter adjusting my self trying to hide my, now hard, dick. y/n comes back to the counter with both of our drinks and hands one too me. “pretty sweet. think you’ll like it” she says with a smile on her face. how would her face look wrapped around my cock?.. “matt?” she says looking at my softly. “oh uh.. y-yea? sorry” “you okay?” she says placing a hand on my arm, sending shivers through my body. “y-yea im fine” i say with a slight smile. “okayy “ she says. god she’s fucking gorgeous.

y/n’s pov:

i sit up on the counter as i drink my drink. i tried to put as much vodka in my cup as i could, still making it not too bitter. i down my drink trying to get drunk as fast as possible. i looked around the crowded and saw chris talking to a girl and nick talking to a boy. a smile grew on my face, i was happy for nick. i couldn’t help but think about how matt complimented me earlier. did he think i looked pretty, or was he just being respectful. as i’m thinking matt looks slightly up at me. “ this is pretty good y/n” he says bringing the cup up to his mouth to continue drinking “glad you liked it matthew” i say with a smile on my face. i could already feel the alcohol kicking in. i could see it in matt’s face as well. i get down from the counter and prepare me and matt another drink before asking him if he would want to go outside with me. “sure” he responds. i grab his hand as i guide him outside to the backyard. we sit on the grass looking up at the starry sky. “you look beautiful y/n” i looked over to see matt smiling at me. i felt my face burn up. “you’re looking very hot yourself” i say without thinking. fuck. “is that so?“ “yup.. sure is” i respond now fully embarrassed that i just said that out loud. “ you know, i’ve been eyeing you this whole night y/n” “that skirts been riding up all night.” he reached over and cups my cheek “i hate seeing guys look at you.” “why is that matty” i say with a smirk on my face “you just look so fucking hot in that skirt, i know they’re thinking the same” “can i kiss you.” he says. i feel a knot build in my stomach. was he really asking me this. i nodded at him as he connected our lips. it was short and soft before he grabbed my hips and straddled me on his lap. he kissed me roughly as if he’s been waiting his whole life for it. i feel his hard cock against my core. this only made me wetter. he stopped our kissing as he looked at me, his lips red and glossy covered in both out saliva. “let’s go somewhere more private princess” princess? he stands up reaching a hand out in order to help me up as well. he holds my hand as he guides me through the crowded house, arriving at the bathroom. we walk in as he turns and shuts the door locking it. he turns to me and connects our lips. the kiss was hungry and needy. he picked my up and set me on the bathroom counter. he began to kiss me again as he moved down to my jaw making me wince at the sensitive skin only making him groan in response. he moves down to my neck nipping at the sensitive skin. slowly he reaches the hem of my top. “can i take this off princess?” i nod at him. “words baby. use your words.” “yes m-matt. you can take it off” i practically whimper out. he rips off my shirt looking at my breasts. “your so fucking pretty” he began to suck on my nipple clamping the other inbetween his fingers. i throw my head back. “fuck..matt” moans escape my mouth as i feel his breath against my skin. he moves down to my stomach. “m-matt.. stop t-teasing” i whimper out. “what do you want baby..” “i want to feel you inside me m-matt.. please just..just fuck me” hearing this he slides off my skirt and spreads my legs. “what a pretty pussy..” he kisses my inner thighs until he flattens out his tongue and licks a stripe up my pussy. “your so wet baby.. so worked up just for me” he stands up bringing his finger up to my mouth

“suck”

he says . instantly i take his fingers into my mouth and suck his fingers as i moan slightly against his fingers.once he felt they were wet enough he took them out of my mouth bringing them to my entrance and slowly sliding them in. i moan and whimper as i feel him slowly curl his finger inside of me. “m-matt.. fuck.. please.. i want to feel your dick i-inside me” i whine as he takes out his fingers leaving me to feel empty without his fingers inside of me . he slides off his jeans and boxers at once as his dick springs up hitting his stomach. my eyes widen as i see his length. “can you handle this baby” matt says as he jerks his dick. “yes m-matt…please just f-fuck me.” he slides his dick up and down my pussy before lining himself up with my entrance. he sticks his tip in causing me to moan. he slowly slides the rest of his length into me allowing me to adjust his size. “move matt p-please” he starts to thrust into me, moans and whimpers leave my mouth as he fucks me. he brings his thumb up to my clit and starts to rub. this only making the sensation feel better. “you feel good baby… my dick stretching out your pussy?” he groans. i nod as he continues at a faster pace. i look up at him, his eyes full on lust and satisfaction. he throws his head back “fuck princess i’m close..” his words making me wince “me too matty” “let go baby” with those words i felt the knot in my stomach releasing. “mmh fuck yea baby… cum all over my cock” you moan as you ride out your high matt slowing down with his thrusts. he pulls out of you jerking himself above your stomach as he releases all over you. groans and moans release his mouth as he throws his head back and bites his lip. “fuck baby.. your so perfect” he reached for a towel dampening it and cleaning up both of our arousal from my body. he helped me off of the counter putting his clothes back on and helping me get dressed as well. he places a kiss on my cheek as we walk outside of the restroom and to the kitchen. “care for another drink mr. matthew?” i say with a smirk on my face. “why yes i do sweetheart” “coming right up sir” we both giggle. “here you go” he sips out of his cup. “thanks, wanna go get something to eat?” “sure” i was actually hungry i hadn’t eaten anything all day. we walk out to the driveway and order an uber. “hey..y/n” he asks me almost whispering. “yea?..” i was nervous, i could feel my hands start sweating and a knot start to build in my stomach. “would you maybe want to be my girlfriend? if not that’s completely fine like i’d understand if you wouldn’t want to be im just maybe saying because-“ he started to nervously ramble on. “yes matt i’d love to be your girlfriend” i say with a smile glancing back at him. “phew okay because i totally thought that you would say no cuz-“ i connect our lips, cutting off his sentence. i can feel as we both smile into the gentle soft kiss. we pull away and start to entangle our hands in one another.

phew okay i kinda hate this but it’s okay hopefully u liked it..